Have you ever felt that gentle nudge in your heart—the Holy Spirit calling you to do something for His Kingdom? Maybe it’s starting a ministry, reaching out to someone in need, or stepping into a role you never imagined. That stirring is real, but the choice to obey is yours.

If you’ve been hesitant, you’re not alone. Many of us wrestle with doubt, fear, or feelings of inadequacy. Let’s explore common obstacles that can hinder your calling and the truth that sets you free.

1. Sometimes I Believe the Enemy’s Lies
Satan prowls like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour (1 Peter 5:8). His strategy hasn’t changed since the Garden of Eden: create doubt, fear, and discouragement.

• Lies sound convincing.
• They make you question God’s plan.
• They whisper that you’re too broken, too unqualified, or too late.
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God’s Word exposes every lie and brings freedom. Don’t believe the enemy, believe God.
 
2. God Can’t Use Me Because of My Past
Albert's childhood was full of tragedy: his father died, his home burned down, and by his teens, he was involved in crime. At twenty-eight, he was sentenced to two life terms without parole.

But God reached Albert in prison through a Kairos ministry weekend. He discovered God’s love and surrendered his life to Christ. Over the next 29 years, Albert mentored others, taught the Bible, and brought hope to countless people behind bars. Eventually, he was released, became an ordained minister, and founded a reentry program to help men returning from prison. In 2024, he even received a full pardon.  Albert’s story reminds us that our past does not define our future.

Your past doesn’t disqualify you—it prepares you. God delights in using the broken, the overlooked, and the unqualified to display His power.

3. I’m Not Qualified
Joanna had no formal training in prayer or ministry. She joined a Bible study in a jail cell, and despite her lack of experience, she started a nightly prayer circle with other women. What began with three women grew into prayer circles in every pod. Lives were transformed, spirits lifted, and God’s power moved in ways Joanna never imagined.

God doesn’t call the qualified—He qualifies the called. You don’t need to have it all together; you just need to be willing.
 
4. Did I Hear God Right?
Doubt is normal. Gideon questioned God’s call, Jeremiah felt too young, Isaiah doubted his worth, and Paul believed his past disqualified him.

I’ve had my own moments of doubt. When God called me to serve in the county jail, I was terrified. I had no experience, and walking through those heavy doors into a room of inmates felt completely outside my comfort zone.

Later, God nudged me to write a devotional called ,but God. I initially ignored the calling—I had no idea how to write a book, I had even dropped my only journalism class in college—but over time, I listened, researched, and collected stories of inmates’ but God moments: unexpected moments of grace where God stepped in and changed everything. And now I am about to be a published author.

Even when we doubt, God equips us to fulfill His plans.
 
5. Fear is Real—But God is Greater
Fear is a natural emotion. Moses didn’t want to face Pharaoh. Joshua was afraid to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land. And I’ve felt fear too—fear of rejection, fear of failure, and fear that God’s calling would disrupt my plans.

Fear becomes a problem only when it stops us from obeying. God calls with His power and presence, not a casual “good luck.” 

When we step forward in obedience, even when we are afraid, His plans consistently surpass what we could have imagined.
 
The Holy Spirit stirs in you for a reason. Don’t let lies, doubt, or fear hold you back. Your obedience may be the But God moment that changes someone’s life—including yours.

At the Neighborhood Christian Center where I work, we run a summer youth leadership program for high school students. Instead of spending their summer flipping burgers or filing paperwork, these teens are offered something deeper. Throughout the program, they study the Bible, hear from inspiring guest speakers, and share the Gospel with children at camps and clubs across the city.

We also prepare them for life. They learn how to apply for jobs, practice interview skills, present themselves with confidence, and navigate basic etiquette and manners. We expose them to new possibilities by taking them on tours of local colleges and trade schools.

But yesterday, we took them somewhere unexpected: our county jail.

For context, I spend at least two hours a week inside that very jail, meeting with incarcerated women. We open God’s Word, talk about life, and wrestle with real questions. So bringing our youth there wasn’t just about seeing jail—it was about seeing choices, consequences, and hope in the middle of both.

They saw master control, with more security cameras than you can count. They walked through booking, where every person arrested is processed. They stood in the long, echoing hallways of the women’s pods, where the women I meet with live day in and day out.

But the most powerful part of the tour wasn’t the facility—it was the people.

Two inmates volunteered to speak with our students. The first was a woman facing 25 years. She had already been to prison and was now awaiting her next court date. She told her story: it all began in high school with drinking and drugs. Her charges started small—misdemeanors—but over time, they escalated to felonies. And felonies stick. They follow you. They shape everything that comes next.

The second was a man facing nearly 100 years. He had spent most of his twenties incarcerated. Now, in his early thirties, he’s facing the very real possibility of never getting out.

They shared with the students that the mindset of “just a little marijuana” can be extremely dangerous—especially now. What many youth don't realize is that today’s drugs aren’t what they used to be. Most street drugs, even those that appear relatively harmless, are often laced with deadly substances like fentanyl. Just one mistake, one bad batch, can lead to overdose—or worse.

They also talked about the growing legal consequences. As of July 1, 2025, DAP pens—vapes that contain THC substances—are now illegal to possess, sell, or distribute. What was once casually sold at gas stations is now a felony offense. When our students heard this, many were visibly surprised. They had no idea that carrying something they thought was “no big deal” could now have life-altering consequences.

Both inmates emphasized the same powerful message: "Watch who you’re spending your time with." They shared with raw honesty how the friendships they chose—the people they allowed into their inner circle—shaped their thinking, their values, and ultimately, their actions. It wasn’t just one major decision that landed them in jail; it was a series of smaller choices, influenced by the company they kept.
 
They described how peer pressure slowly chipped away at their convictions. How being around the wrong crowd normalized behavior they once knew was wrong. Trying drugs or covering for a friend became part of their routine. And before they realized it, those moments compounded into a lifestyle—one that spiraled beyond their control. Their warning wasn’t just about avoiding “bad influences.” It was about being intentional surrounding yourself with people who challenge you to grow, who encourage you to make wise choices, who reflect the kind of future you want for yourself. 

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “You are who you hang out with.” It might sound simple, but it’s profoundly true. The people around you either push you toward God’s best—or pull you away from it.

"Do not be misled: ‘Bad company corrupts good character.’" – 1 Corinthians 15:33 

The people we allow into our inner circle shape our thinking, our choices, and the direction of our lives. That’s not just a warning—it’s a reality. The inmates’ stories reminded our students (and all of us) that even small compromises—especially in who we let influence us—can lead to life-altering consequences.

But God’s grace always offers a way back. He places people in our lives to challenge us, sharpen us, and walk with us toward healing and truth. He redeems stories—even the ones that look like they’ve gone too far.

Take a moment to ask yourself:
Who am I letting influence me?
Are they drawing me closer to Christ—or away from Him?
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Choose wisely.

One of the greatest joys of my life is jail ministry. Week after week, I get the privilege of diving deep into Scripture with women who are hungry for truth—women who are eager to learn, to grow, and light up with hope when they hear that Jesus hasn’t given up on them.

When we complete a study, we celebrate with a graduation. We bring in outside food and hand out certificates—something many of the women have never received before. For some, it’s the first tangible reminder that they can finish something, and that their life is not defined by what they've done, but by what God can do.

I’ve taught a lot of Bible studies. But there’s one book I come back to again and again: Jonah. You might remember Jonah as “the guy who got swallowed by a big fish.” If you grew up in church when I did, you may even saw him on a felt board.
But there’s so much more to his story than just a big fish.

Jonah was a prophet—a preacher, really—called by God to go to Nineveh, a city full of people known for their violence and wickedness. Jonah did what many of us do when faced with something uncomfortable: he ran. Literally. He hopped on a boat going in the opposite direction of where God called him to go. A huge storm hit. While the pagan sailors panicked and prayed to their gods, Jonah was sleeping below deck. Eventually, he admitted that the storm was his fault—and instead of repenting and asking to be dropped off so he could obey God, he chose to be thrown overboard.
He chose drowning over obedience.

But God wasn’t done with Jonah yet.

God sent a great fish to swallow him whole. That could’ve been the end of the story. But it wasn’t. God sent a giant fish to swallow Jonah—and saved his life. Can you imagine being inside a giant fish for three days? Total darkness, the smell, the suffocating seaweed, the isolation. Jonah describes it in chapter 2:
I said, ‘I have been banished from your sight; yet I will look again toward your holy temple.’ The engulfing waters threatened me, the deep surrounded me; seaweed was wrapped around my head. To the roots of the mountains I sank down; the earth beneath barred me in forever. But you, Lord my God, brought my life up from the pit. Jonah 2:4-6

He was at rock bottom—literally and spiritually. But even there, God’s grace found him. Sin may wreck our lives, but grace always has the final word. If Jonah hadn’t gone too far, then neither have you. God’s grace is always greater than our sin.

But here’s the thing—we can’t hold on to both. We can’t grip sin and still receive grace. Eventually, we must choose.

Many of the women I’ve met in jail come face-to-face with that decision, like Nicole.
When Nicole entered county jail--again—she was at her lowest. Addiction, crime, and years of separation from her children had taken their toll. She was quiet in Bible study, but I could see the wheels turning. She listened. She absorbed truth. Slowly, she started to believe that her past didn’t define her. That there was hope. That Jesus could be trusted. Her transformation didn’t happen overnight, but it was real. Jesus reached into her pit and pulled her out, piece by piece. And it became a testimony to others who felt just as stuck.

If Jonah could be rescued from the depths of the sea, Nicole could be rescued from the depths of despair.

And so can you.

There’s a story about a child who got his hand stuck in a jar. He had reached in to grab a coin, but once he closed his fist, he couldn’t get it out. He pulled, twisted, cried—nothing worked. Finally, someone asked, “Are you still holding the coin?”
He nodded. “You’ll have to let go to get free.”

Sounds simple. But isn’t that all of us? We say we want freedom, but we’re still clinging to the very thing keeping us trapped.
A toxic relationship.
A hidden addiction.
A grudge.
Shame.
Control.
Fear of the unknown

In jail, I often hear:
“I don’t know who I am without it.”
“I’m afraid to let go.”
“It’s all I’ve ever known.”

But the truth is: freedom always requires surrender.

Jesus doesn’t pry our fingers open. He invites. He waits. He says:
“Cast all your anxiety on Me because I care for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

Jonah was trapped. Nicole was trapped. Maybe you feel trapped, too.
But God hears your cry. He still answers. He still sends grace in unexpected forms—even a great fish. Maybe you’ve been running from God or holding onto something you think you can’t live without. But what if the thing you're holding onto is the very thing keeping you stuck?

Let go.

Not because it’s easy—but because it’s the only way out.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite verses:
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,
let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,
fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.
For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:1–2
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Let go of the “coin.”
Cling to the cross.
Run your race—with eyes fixed on Jesus.