The glaring pink stain spread across the center of their living room carpet like an accusation.

“We can’t have people over tonight,” the wife said as her husband walked through the door. “We’ll have to cancel the life group.”

He took in the scene: their three-year-old daughter huddled in the corner, tears streaking her face. Carpet cleaning supplies scattered across the floor. And that stain—massive, bright, impossible to ignore—where fruit juice had turned their beige carpet into a pink disaster.

The wife’s mind raced. Everyone will stare at it. They’ll think we can’t keep our house together. They’ll be distracted the whole evening.

Her husband suggested covering it with a rug. Maybe the coffee table? They both knew these were half-hearted solutions.

Then they made a choice.

They cleaned what they could. They sent out a text that the meeting was still on. They decided the stain would have to remain. Because the bigger picture—creating space for their community to gather—mattered more than having a perfect house.

You are this couple.

Maybe not with a pink stain, but with something else. You’ve looked at what you have to offer and decided it’s not enough.

My house is too small.
I’m not articulate enough.
I don’t know the Bible well enough.
Other people are better at this than me.

You’ve measured yourself against the polished, impressive people around you and concluded: I’m inadequate.

So you do nothing.

Five Loaves and Two Fish

You know the story. Jesus asks His disciples to feed 5,000 people. They bring Him a boy’s lunch: five small loaves and two fish.

Imagine being that boy. Imagine watching the disciples assess your modest meal against an impossible task.

This? This is what we’re supposed to use?

But Jesus didn’t need their abundance. He needed their availability.

He took what seemed laughably small and created a feast that fed thousands—with twelve baskets left over.

God has never required you to serve from abundance. He asks you to serve because you’ve been served. He doesn’t measure your offering by its size. He measures it by your willingness to give it.

Let the Weak Say, “I Am Strong”

Listen to what Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 1:27-28:

“God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are.”

Read that again.

The foolish. The weak. The nobodies.

That qualifies you.

God’s strategy has always been to use ordinary people to accomplish extraordinary things. Not because of who they are, but because of who He is.

Churches Full of Spectators

God’s greatest resource for His mission isn’t programs or buildings or budgets.

It’s people. All kinds of people.

Yet too many of us sit on the sidelines, convinced our contribution wouldn’t matter. We’ve become spectators in our own faith—watching, observing, waiting for the “right moment” or the “right qualifications.”

Meanwhile, needs go unmet. People go unseen. Opportunities pass by.

Stop Doing Nothing. Start Doing Something.

Here’s my challenge to you:

What if you stopped waiting to be impressive and simply started being available?

You don’t need a theology degree to text someone who’s struggling.
You don’t need a perfect home to invite someone over for dinner.
You don’t need eloquence to share what God has done in your life.
You don’t need abundance to give what you have.

Stop measuring your inadequacy. Start making yourself available.

Make the decision today: I will do something instead of nothing.

Mother Teresa said it perfectly: “If I look at the mass, I will never act. If I look at the one, I will.”

Don’t focus on what you can’t do for everyone.
Focus on what you can do for someone.

The pink stain might still be there. Your offering might seem small. Your house might not be perfect, your words might stumble, your gifts might seem ordinary.

Offer them anyway.

Because God doesn’t need your perfection.
He just needs your yes.