Maya stood at her kitchen counter long after the sun had gone down, a half-written grocery list in front of her and a dozen thoughts running through her mind. Work deadlines. Her kids’ school projects. A conversation she needed to have with her husband. A friend who needed encouragement. And beneath it all, a quiet whisper she couldn’t shake:
“Am I really enough for all of this?”
She sighed, feeling that familiar weight—a mixture of responsibility, comparison, and the pressure to be strong in every role she carried. Life today seemed louder and faster than it used to be, and she wondered how other women managed to stay grounded.
As she reached to turn off the light, her Bible—still open from that morning—caught her eye.
“You are God’s workmanship…” —Ephesians 2:10
She paused. God’s workmanship. Not the world’s. Not her own expectations. His.
She sat down, letting the words settle over her. She remembered the day she learned that her identity wasn’t found in how perfectly she performed, but in the God who created her with purpose. Somehow that truth still reached her, even on nights when she felt inadequate.
The next morning, while driving her kids to school, she whispered a prayer she’d prayed many times before:
“Lord, I don’t feel strong today. But be my strength.”
It wasn’t dramatic, but it was honest. And as she prayed, she remembered:
“The Lord is my strength and my shield.” —Psalm 28:7
Later that week, she met with a young woman from church—a new mom who felt overwhelmed by life’s demands. As they talked, Maya found herself offering comfort she didn’t even realize she had.
“He gently leads those who have young,” she said softly, recalling Isaiah 40:11.
The young mom’s eyes welled up with relief, and Maya wondered if this was how God used ordinary women to mentor one another—not through speeches or perfection, but through shared stories, shared weakness, and shared faith.
One evening, Maya’s husband came home discouraged from work. They sat together, and instead of trying to fix everything, she simply spoke with kindness—words soaked in patience and wisdom she’d been asking God to grow in her.
“She opens her mouth with wisdom, and kindness is on her tongue.” —Proverbs 31:26
She wasn’t trying to be a “Proverbs 31 woman.” She was just trying to love well.
And maybe that was what God wanted all along.
As the months passed, Maya noticed how God was shaping her—not into a perfect woman, but into a courageous one. And courage didn’t always look loud. Sometimes courage was quiet obedience. Faithful love. Whispered prayers. Showing up when life felt full. Speaking truth when it would be easier to stay silent.
One morning during her devotions, this verse leapt off the page:
“Be strong and courageous… for the Lord your God is with you.” —Joshua 1:9
For the first time in a long while, she felt it deeply. She wasn’t walking through a shifting world alone. God was with her—not asking her to be everything, but reminding her that He was everything she needed.
As she closed her Bible, she realized something beautiful:
She didn’t have to strive to become a godly wife, mother, mentor, or leader.
She simply had to trust Jesus—to be her strength, her boldness, and her voice.
And in that trust, she became exactly who He called her to be:
a woman of quiet courage, steady grace, and unshakable purpose in a changing world.