Part 3 – Redefined by Grace

Memoir Reflection – Part 3 of the Series

As 2017 drew to a close and 2018 began, the Lord gently led me into a new season. There were no more lectures on prayer, and I sensed His prompting to release certain responsibilities. I handed over the leadership of our ladies’ prayer meeting to a Bible College student, remaining available to support her. I also entrusted the Living Life Group to a husband-and-wife team. I had led it alone for years, but the Spirit impressed on my heart: “Let go.” And I obeyed, trusting that shared leadership would better reflect God’s design.

At that point, I was still “Pastor Brenda”—but without a clear portfolio. Apart from training leaders, I had no formal role. And so the question echoed in my heart: Why am I even Pastor Brenda?

I asked our senior pastor more than once whether my ordination had been a God idea or merely a good idea. He assured me it was of God. Yet the ache remained. I was no longer permitted to pray for people after services—because I had questioned the use of tongues and shared my conviction that it was unscriptural. That quiet conversation closed a door. And I found myself standing in a stripped-down space, asking: Who am I now, Lord?

For three years, “Pastor Brenda” had been more than a title—it had been a sacred trust. I had taught, prayed, led, and poured out with joy. But now, without those roles, I felt exposed. Discarded. Vulnerable.

And that is precisely where the Lord met me.

He did not rush to give me a new assignment. He did not hand me a new title. Instead, He whispered something far more eternal: “You are Mine.”
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine.” —Isaiah 43:1

In June 2018, I took a month’s leave from the church. But when July came, I had no peace about returning. By the end of August, that peace still hadn’t come. After much prayer and ongoing conversations with my husband—who had walked faithfully beside me—we both discerned that it was time to resign.

It was as if the Lord Himself was peeling back every layer of identity I had wrapped around ministry, revealing that my worth was never in what I did—but in who He is.

He reminded me that calling is not confined to pulpits or programs. It is woven into every moment of obedience, every quiet act of faithfulness, every whispered prayer. Ministry was not something I had lost—it was being refined and redefined by His grace.

“I no longer call you servants… Instead, I have called you friends.” —John 15:15
I wasn’t just a worker in His vineyard—I was a friend of the King. A daughter. A beloved one.

“The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; Your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.” —Psalm 138:8
Even when my roles changed, His purpose remained. Even when platforms disappeared, His presence did not.

2 Corinthians 3:5 came alive in my spirit:
“Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God.”
I didn’t need a title to be fruitful. I needed Him. And He was enough.

Slowly, the ache of loss began to transform into the joy of deeper intimacy. I found freedom in simply being Brenda—redeemed by Christ, led by His Spirit, and invited into deeper trust.

God was teaching me that identity rooted in Him is unshakable.
“For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” —Colossians 3:3
I stopped striving to be seen.
I started seeking to see Him.

And in that sacred shift, I found peace—not in circumstances, but in Christ alone.
“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” —Isaiah 26:3

To Him be the glory.

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To be continued…