How I Became a Prophet
Written on 18 April 2025.
How I Became a Prophet
People often assume that becoming a prophet must be some great honor. They imagine it's something achieved by status, recognition, or accomplishment—like I did something extraordinary, and God rewarded me with this position. But the truth is exactly the opposite.
God did not make me a prophet because of any greatness in me. He made me one through the breaking down of everything I thought I had. It wasn't through recognition, it was through rejection. It wasn't through praise, it was through being misunderstood, cast aside, and emptied out.
This aligns with what Jesus Christ said in Matthew 11:25:
"I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes."
He doesn't reveal His deep truths to the so-called wise or the self-assured. He reveals them to those who have become like babes—not childish, but emptied, dependent, and humble. That’s how it happened to me.
When people hear "prophet," they think it means I'm honored by men or lifted up in some way. But the path was humiliation. It was separation. It was the stripping away of every support I had—friends, reputation, church, even at times my own sense of purpose. God didn’t put me on a stage. He put me in a desert. And in that desert, He spoke.
This is also what happened with Elijah. After standing boldly on Mount Carmel, he fled into the wilderness, discouraged and alone. At his lowest point, he said:
"It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers." (1 Kings 19:4)
Even the mighty prophet Elijah came to a place of despair and deep humility. He didn’t see himself as better than those who came before him. He felt his weakness and confessed it before God. And it was in that place—under the juniper tree, in the wilderness—that God met him, not in wrath but in a still small voice.
I say this not to glorify hardship, but to tell the truth: the call to be a prophet doesn’t come through man's system. It comes through God's process. A process that often looks like failure, obscurity, and being brought low in the eyes of the world.
It wasn’t until I had nothing that I could hear Him clearly. Not until the world had closed its doors that He opened His. And I realized: this is how He always works. Not many mighty are called. Not many noble. But God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty (1 Corinthians 1:27).
That’s how I became a prophet. Not because I climbed up, but because He brought me down—and then revealed Himself there.