Last Monday, I dragged myself to my desk carrying something heavier than a to-do list.
The enemy had been busy in my head since I woke up, whispering the same thing on repeat: you are not good enough. I didn’t have a strategy for it. No pep talk ready, no verse locked and loaded. All I had were eleven words I kept repeating under my breath before my day even began:
“Lord Jesus, just be with me today. Just be with me today. I need You.”
I said it twice because once didn’t feel like enough.
I didn’t know yet that God was already moving to answer it.
The conversations I didn’t know I needed
My day began with a meeting with a senior leader I report to; and instead of showing up armored the way I usually do, I chose honesty. I opened up about how I see things, my leadership style, my strengths, and the places I still struggle. She listened carefully, and what she offered back steadied me in a way I hadn’t expected.
Then came my mentor; a former boss who has made a significant impact on my life, someone I consider a genuine friend. He had originally planned to see me later that week, but something pushed him to move our lunch to that same day. He didn’t wait to be told something was wrong. He just showed up.
Over lunch, he asked me what was going on. He gave me the kind of wisdom that doesn’t feel like advice so much as it feels like being seen. And then he said something I am still carrying: whenever you journal, look back at where you were before, and where you are right now. Look at the things that were just prayers then, that you are already living through now.
I cried after that lunch. Not because of the weight of the conversation, but because of the relief of it. Because I realized that the two conversations I’d had that day were not coincidences. They were the answer to my eleven-word prayer. God had not sent a vision or a sign. He had sent people. People He had already placed in my life, who simply showed up when I needed them most.
“My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” — Exodus 33:14
The person I almost walked past
The next day brought a full, energizing meeting with our team; the kind of strategic collaboration that reminds me why I love the work. For the first time in a while, I felt genuinely alive in it; capable, clear, myself.
And then the day turned.
Later that afternoon, I really looked at one of the steadiest people in our circle; someone who has quietly held us together through every hard season, someone I also call a genuine friend. I could see what stress had written across her face. Not the polished, composed version of her I’d grown used to seeing. Something underneath it, something that had clearly been building for a while.
I felt the guilt immediately. How had I not noticed? How had I been so consumed by my own “not good enough” that I had missed the silent battle of someone who is always the first to ask how are you doing and almost never the one to say it about herself?
We ended up staying longer than the meeting required; not for work, but for each other. A few of us sat together and shared about life, not spreadsheets. And in that conversation, something unexpected and beautiful happened.
A colleague mentioned she has friends with spiritual gifts; gifts of healing and of vision. She quietly passed our names along, particularly for our friend who was visibly carrying so much. The message that came back stopped me in my tracks. For our friend: she is under spiritual attack and needs deliverance. For me: always pray for discernment so she can identify her intrusive and demon-induced thoughts. She has been set free.
I sat with that for a long time. What a beautiful, unexpected affirmation from a God who answers eleven-word prayers through lunch conversations and an extended afternoon with the people He placed beside me.
What this week is teaching me
The enemy’s opening move on Monday was to tell me I was not enough and I was alone. By Tuesday evening, God had systematically dismantled both lies; not with a lightning bolt, but with people. A mentor who moved his schedule. A leader who listened. A colleague whose quiet suffering reminded me to look up from my own. A friend who extended an invitation to her circle. A message I wasn’t expecting.
Intentionality, I’m learning, is a form of spiritual discipline. When we ask God to be present, we have to keep our eyes open, because He almost always answers through the people He has already placed around us.
I’m also learning that my “not good enough” is an intrusive thought, not a verdict, and it needs to be met with discernment, not agreement. Part of maturity is learning which voices to argue with and which ones to hand back to where they came from.
And I’m learning that the people who always ask how are you doing need us to ask it back. The steadiest ones among us are not immune. They are just quieter about it.
If you are the one dragging yourself through this week
Start with honesty; first with yourself, then with the few people you trust enough to hold it. Don’t wait until you’re at your breaking point.
When the voice comes, and it will come, pause before you agree with it. Ask yourself: is this reality, or is this an old fear wearing a new face? Exercise your discernment. You were given it for exactly this.
And look around you. Really look. Ask the person who always holds everyone else together how they are doing, and then wait for the real answer. You might be their answered prayer today.
That voice on Monday told me I was alone and not enough.
It was lying.
You are never as alone as your thoughts insist. You have exactly enough wisdom, strength, and community for whatever today is asking of you. You are held. You are seen. And you are exactly where you are meant to be.
Who is holding you up right now, and when did you last ask if they’re being held too? 🌿
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