Step 1: The Problem: I Can’t; Step 2: The Solution: He Can

From a young age, I felt a persistent longing to become better–to fix what I perceived as weaknesses and flaws in myself. This drive has shaped so much of my life as I’ve strived to become a better person, a better daughter, a better employee, a better friend. I’ve spent years trying to overcome what I see as my vulnerabilities and shortcomings. I’ve cycled through countless self-improvement efforts and approaches, each promising the transformation I believed would finally make me good enough. Each attempt started with hope and determination, only to end in frustration and a sense of failure when the results weren’t what I expected or didn’t last.

This struggle isn’t unique to me. Our culture thrives on our insecurities. We’re surrounded by industries built on our desire to improve–self-help books, fitness programs, social media influencers showing us their “perfect” lives. We’re constantly fed the message that weakness and vulnerability are liabilities that will hold us back from success, acceptance, and happiness.

In this environment, I’ve hidden parts of myself. I’ve kept quiet in meetings when I had ideas, afraid they weren’t good enough. I’ve hesitated to try new things in public, fearing judgment if I wasn’t immediately skilled. I’ve held back in relationships, revealing only the polished parts of my story. I’ve postponed joy, telling myself I’ll participate fully in life once I reach some arbitrary goal of self-improvement.

It’s taken me a long time to understand a profound truth: what I see as my greatest weakness, God sees as an opportunity to work in and through me. For years, my morning prayers included some version of: “God, if you could just help me overcome this one thing, I could serve you better.” Only recently did I realize how similar this prayer is to Paul’s plea asking God to remove the thorn from his flesh (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). God didn’t remove it–because that vulnerability was precisely what God intended to use.

This realization has begun to transform everything. What if my insecurities aren’t obstacles to overcome before God can use me, but the very avenues through which His power might be displayed? What if accepting my limitations is actually the first step toward genuine growth?

The challenge remains: how do I live with grace in a world that values perfect and beautiful over imperfect and messy? How do I shift my mindset from seeking constant approval to embracing that God’s love isn’t conditional on my appearance or performance?

I’m learning that acceptance doesn’t mean resignation. It creates the foundation of grace from which genuine change can occur. When I accept myself as beloved despite my flaws, I can approach growth from a healthier place, motivated by love rather than shame. Perhaps most powerfully, I’m discovering that vulnerability creates connection. For years, I bought into the lie that I needed to present a perfect image to be accepted. But all that did was separate me from deep and meaningful relationships because I wasn’t willing to be true to who I am.

In a world that makes it increasingly difficult to be our authentic selves, there’s something revolutionary about showing up in our imperfection. We don’t like to see messy and weak and broken–but when we allow people to see those parts of who we are, God’s love shines brightest through the cracks and actually brings us closer together.

Today, I pray a different prayer. Instead of asking God to “fix” me so I can better serve Him, I ask Him to work through me exactly as I am–to use even this vulnerability as a channel for His grace. I’m learning that my weakness doesn’t disqualify me from God’s purpose; it actually qualifies me for a unique kind of ministry that only comes through brokenness.

My efforts to overcome alone my insecurities don’t even begin to scratch the surface. But when I surrender these struggles to God, acknowledging that I can’t fix myself through sheer willpower, something beautiful happens. Change begins–not on my timeline or according to my specifications, but on God’s terms and for His purposes. There’s a beautiful tension here that I’m still trying to understand. Somehow, God both uses me exactly as I am AND continues to transform me. He doesn’t wait until I’m “fixed” to work through me, yet He also doesn’t leave me as I am. It’s not an either/or proposition but a mysterious both/and reality.

In this divine paradox, He uses my story with all its brokenness today, even as He’s writing new chapters of restoration. He values my authentic, imperfect self in this moment, while lovingly guiding me toward becoming more like Christ. I don’t fully understand how these truths coexist, yet I’ve experienced both realities, being used by God despite my flaws and the joy of seeing Him gradually transform those very weaknesses.

To all of you who, like me, have spent years chasing self-improvement, exhausted from trying to be enough through your own efforts—may you find rest in the knowledge that God loves you exactly as you are today. May you discover the freedom that comes when you stop hiding your vulnerabilities and instead allow them to be the very places where God’s power is made perfect. May you experience the joy of being both fully accepted and continuously transformed. May your weaknesses become windows through which others glimpse God’s grace. May your struggles become stories that bring hope to others around you. And may you live in the beautiful tension of being both a masterpiece and a work in progress—completely loved in your imperfection and gently being shaped into the image of Christ.