Have you considered my brother instead? Or perhaps, my sister? Well, those are fine specimens. They are organised and disciplined and shining examples. Or my colleague? Now he’s a fine and diligent workman.

Lord, I try to be good, but even at my best, I blunder. Lord, I’ll carry out everything perfectly then at the worst possible moment, I’ll mess up. That’s me Lord. One little yet horrendously stupid mistake away from a good job done.

You see Lord, you’ll want to bless me but I’m afraid I’ll probably get in your way somehow.

See, I’ll enrol for an exam that you’ll want to help me pass but then I’ll not study. I’ll panic and try cram the night before. You’ll set up an amazing interview for me Lord, and I’ll forget to prepare adequately. I’ll go in and make a fool out of myself and embarrass you. You’ll give me an opportunity of a life time and I’ll oversleep and get caught in traffic.

Father have you met me? Are you sure you can bless me?

You’ll provide for me financially, enough for me to invest, but silly me I’ll invest in some pyramid scheme. And regret and regret and regret. I’ll try be all dignified and serious at a important meeting until someone has a funny slip of the tongue and I’ll giggle like an 8 year old.

Lord, you’ll promise to give me everywhere that I set foot on and that’s the day I’ll come wearing six inch heels. Father you’ll want to bless me with a new job but interviews frighten me. You’ll put me in front of a panel and I’ll blather like a fool. Oh, I’ll have prepared. But put me on a stage and I shake in my boots and become paralyzed with fear.

You say you’ll make me the head and not the tail but father, I’m a screw up. I can’t lead anyone. I can’t even look them in the eye. Lord, I fumble. I’ll just be honest with you. I’m full of good intentions but that about sums up my great qualities. Father, I’m not amazingly talented. Who am I kidding? I’m not even a little talented. I’m not a great orator, words just don’t come out the way I arranged them in my head. I can walk fast, but Lord, if it’s about running, count me out. My voice is rough enough to clean an oven, so I’m not likely to be singing anything well. I’m organized enough when I remember but I’m very forgetful. For every week of hard work I have at least five of shameful laziness. I’m as greedy as a member of parliament so I am well represented there and as mean-spirited as a receptionist when I can get away with it. Lord, I try but I fumble.

I’m like Samson: dumb as a brick. Lied to three times by his wife Delilah and never learning a lesson until she took his strength from him. But even in his weakness, you gave him strength.

I’m like David: man after your own heart. He botched-up the whole Bathing Bathsheba situation and ended up committing not only adultery but also murder. Yet it was Bathsheba who bore his heir Solomon.

I’m like your disciples. I’ll fall asleep when I’m supposed to be praying. Yet I know you now only because they preached the gospel to the world in accordance to your instructions.

It seems you did take my humanity into account. No matter how badly I mess up, you are able to fix it. I may suffer the consequences, but all is never lost.

Perhaps you chose me because I’m a little pathetic. Okay, I’m a lot pathetic. Perhaps you chose David though the youngest to show your power. Perhaps you chose Gideon though he was the least of his tribe to show your greatness. Perhaps you chose Moses though he was not eloquent to teach us that you use the great and the small alike.

You, Father, are God of the underdog and that only makes you a hundred thousand times more awesome. Thank you Father.

2 Corinthians 12 ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses... ... in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.