I am not self-made.
I am not self-sent.
I did not chase this fire
It found me in the silence
where no one else went.
Before I could speak,
He whispered my name.
Before I could run,
He marked me with flame. I Am Not Self-Made.
I carry no title to please or impress,
no crown to boast, just a burden to bless.
Not for the stage, nor for the show,
but for the One whose winds still blow.
I am not here for favour, nor fame.
I did not call myself, I was claimed.
Heaven placed a word in my chest,
and I’ve been breaking ever since
just to deliver it blessed.
You judge what you see,
but you don’t see it all.
You hear my voice
but not the nights I crawl.
You speak of pride,
but you don’t know the cost.
How many times I’ve died
to count it all loss.
My silence is not weakness.
My tears are not defeat.
This oil I carry came from
the crushing at His feet.
I am hidden before I’m revealed.
I am broken before I’m healed.
I am emptied to be poured.
I am sent only by the Lord.
So speak if you must
but understand this:
Your stones won’t silence
what Heaven has kissed.
I walk in obedience, not ambition.
I burn with mercy, not permission.
My voice is not mine, it echoes above.
I speak because I’m loved
by the Holy One who sees,
who knows, who judges rightly
and still chose me.