The following is an excerpt from Steps, by John Ortberg.

Author Lysa TerKeurst notes how often a single phase expresses the inadequacy that defeats our better intentions: “But I . . .”1 

I should work out and get in shape, but I am tired. 

It would be great to form some new friendships, but I am too introverted. 

I’d love to live relaxed and confident, but I worry too much. 

I ought to get my finances in order, but I spend too much. 

I shouldn’t have another drink, but I had a stressful day. 

“But I” doesn’t just keep me from succeeding. It stops me from even trying. It’s a useful phrase to justify inaction and maintain my denial. 

This little phrase—“But I”—comes up over and over again as an excuse when God calls somebody to do something worthwhile: 

God says, “Abraham, become the father of a great people.” “But I am too old” (see Genesis 17:17). 

“Moses, go to Pharaoh.” “But I am slow of speech and slow of tongue” (see Exodus 4:10). 

“Gideon, deliver my people from the Midianites.” “But I am the least in my family” (see Judges 6:15). 

“Jeremiah, be my prophet.” “But I do not know how to speak; I am only a child” (see Jeremiah 1:6). 

“Esther, go to the king to save my people.” “But I have not been called by the king for thirty days” (see Esther 4:11). 

“Peter, cast your nets on the other side.” “But I already tried it all night” (see Luke 5:5). 

Over and over we see this excuse: “But I . . .” 

Significantly, God never disagrees with these statements. He never says: “Hey, Moses, you’re a pretty good speaker” or “Really, Abraham, you’re not that old.” 

Imagine how the people in Corinth felt when they read these words from the apostle Paul: 

Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. (1 Corinthians 1:26) 

He actually invites them to review their personal inadequacy: Wise? No. Influential? No. Great gene pool? No. 

But Paul is remarkably untroubled by this. 

He doesn’t say, “Therefore, lower your expectations.” 

He doesn’t say, “Thank God a few of you were rich and smart—you’re the ones God is counting on.” 

No. He says to expect great things, because God is up to something that nobody could have expected: 

But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him (1 Corinthians 1:27-29). 

“But God . . . ,” says Paul, and author Fleming Rutledge writes that “when you hear those two words, ‘but God,’ in the New Testament, tune in, because you are about to hear the good news.”2 

“But God” means your inadequacy does not get the last word on who you can be or what you can do. 

You may tell yourself that your situation will never change. You may say that lack of education will always embarrass you; that addiction will always enslave you; that depression will always defeat you; that failure will always define you; that the past will always haunt you; that the future will always frighten you; that weakness will always stop you. 

But God says otherwise. But God begs to differ. 

That phrase gets used dozens of times in the Bible: 

Joseph said to his brothers who sold him into slavery: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good” (Genesis 50:20).  

The psalmist said, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:26).  

Jesus said, “Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But with God everything is possible” (Matthew 19:26).  

This two-word phrase is one of the most important in the Scriptures because every time it is used, a new, transcendent reality is breaking in to bring healing and hope to a world that would be otherwise trapped in its own inadequacy. 

Ever feel unloved? “Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person. . . . But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:7-8).  

Human history, human problems, human destiny—including yours and mine––would be on a one-way track to trouble and death. 

But God. 

But God. 

But God! 

This is the foundation of hope and faith. 

So stop excusing yourself from God’s calling on your life by whining about your inadequacy: “But I . . . But I . . . But I . . .” 

Of course you’re not smart enough. Of course you’re not strong enough. Of course you’re not good enough. Of course you’re inadequate. 

But God has chosen the foolish and the weak and the lowly and the meek and the timid and the too-loud and the not-very-polished. Whatever is going on in your heart or your job or your family or your finances or with your children or your health, even if it looks really bad . . . 

But God! Failure, death, pain, guilt, shame, regret, loss, flaws, character defects, and hell itself are real, but they are not final because a Power greater than ourselves has not yet finished remaking this sorry world. 

Paul himself experienced this dynamic. In one of his letters, Paul is having to respond to opponents who present themselves as “super apostles” with great gifts. So we might expect Paul to list his ministry credentials and achievements: souls saved, churches planted, sermons preached, letters written. 

He does not. Rather, he writes, “I have . . . been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again” (2 Corinthians 11:23).  

He lists his failures, problems, rejections, and anxieties. It’s a celebration of personal inadequacy, climaxing in the “thorn in the flesh,” which we saw he could not pray away. 

This is Paul: a beaten, whipped, tent-making, conceit-prone, thorn-carrying, prayer-failing, self-confessed weakling. 

Who would promote himself by demoting himself? Why would anybody talk that way? 

One reason. Two words: 

But [God] 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. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).  

Everybody is inadequate. However, our inadequacy does not have to be the end of the story. A daily, interactive, experiential connection to a Power greater than yourself is now available to you. 

This was the message of Jesus. This has been the experience of untold millions. 

The question is whether we will say, “But I . . .” or “But God . . .”

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1. This is from a 2012 post on Lysa’s blog called “How Big Is Your But?” that has since been removed.
2. Fleming Rutledge, Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2018), 125.