The weight of time has left its mark on me,

A shadow carved by trials deep and long.

The past still whispers, though its grip has waned,

Its echoes now a teacher, not a chain.

I step into this place, this sacred role,

With trembling hands but heart aglow with fire.

A calling, clear as dawn’s first tender light,

Though I am dust, He breathes His will through me.

These scars, once thought to mar, now testify—

A record of His mercy, vast and kind.

What shame once sought to bury in the dark,

His grace has turned to wisdom, bold and bright.

I see the faces, searching, seeking truth,

Each heart a world of questions and of pain.

Who am I to lead, to guide their steps?

Yet still He speaks: “My strength will fill your lack.”

The heavy yoke of past pain dissolves,

Replaced by burdens shared with Him alone.

In Him I move, in Him I dare to speak,

A broken vessel, pouring out His love.

So here I stand, no longer weighed by fear,

For every trial served to forge this call.

And though the path ahead remains unknown,

His faithfulness will light the way to come.