Conviction Is Real

“But he said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for y power is made perfect in weakness.” - 2 Corinthians 12:9

Prestige.

Notoriety.

The applause of others.

For “my” glory.

Law school carried all of that. It was something I desired from an early age, and when the opportunity finally presented itself later in life, I went for it. I worked hard to get accepted. But after the first term, I knew that wasn’t where I was supposed to be, nor what I was supposed to be doing. Still, the voices rang in my ears: “I’m so proud of you.” “You’re going to be a great lawyer.” Those words turned the wheels of ambition, not for His glory, but for mine. And I kept going.

How could I disappoint them? What would they think? Would they understand?

But then came the piercing question, What if the cost of fitting in is losing who God called you to be?

Grace stepped in. Grace showed me that Jesus loves me too much to let me slip away. Without that interruption, I would’ve gone further than I ever intended, stayed longer than I ever should have, and lost more than I could bear.

Conviction is real. It doesn’t end the story, it redirects it. Conviction is not condemnation, it is the mercy of God pulling us back to alignment. It is the Spirit whispering, “This is not the way, walk in the one I’ve prepared for you.”

Prestige fades.

Applause quiets.

But obedience remains.

Conviction is the gift that saves us from ourselves, and surrender is the yes that keeps us in Him.

Journal Reflection:

• Where have you pursued something for “your” glory instead of His?

• How do the voices of others: praise, expectation, or pressure, shape your decisions?

• Write about a time when conviction redirected your path. How did grace intervene?

• What would it look like to live fully for His glory, even if it meant disappointing others?

Prayer:

Lord, I confess the places where I have chased prestige and applause for my own glory.

I confess the times I have ignored conviction because I feared disappointing others.

I’m sorry, Jesus.

I confess and repent for the ways I have sought my own path instead of Yours.

Thank You for loving me enough to interrupt me, for letting grace redirect my steps.

Teach me to embrace conviction not as condemnation, but as mercy. Let my obedience be louder than the voices around me, and let my surrender testify that the truest yes is for Your glory alone.

Amen