Chosen: Why Not Me?

When my mom asked me to become her Power of Attorney and later entrusted me to serve as the executor of her estate, I quietly wondered why.

My brothers are brilliant attorneys. They are accomplished, analytical, and exceptionally capable. Surely they were more qualified to navigate the legal and financial responsibilities that would one day come.

Yet one afternoon, while sorting through decades of my mother's papers—old photographs, newspaper clippings, awards, and treasured keepsakes—I found myself reflecting on that decision.

Surrounded by the story of her life, my mom looked at me and asked, "Who's going to help me make my decisions? Who's going to take care of me? Who's going to watch over me?"

I smiled and said, "Mom, you chose me."

She looked surprised.

"I did?"

After a quiet pause, she softly replied, "I trust you."

In reality, my mother trusts all of her children. But as I reflected on those words later, I realized there was something deeper she may not have been able to express.

What I heard in my heart was this:

"I trust you because we share the same faith and values. I know you will seek what is right, not simply what is easy. You will honor me. We are cut from the same fabric."

My brothers have faithfully carried their share of my mother's care, and I am deeply grateful for each of them. But my role has been different.

Caregiving has required sacrifices that have touched every part of my life—my career, my relationships, my physical health, and my emotional well-being. It has meant sleepless nights, difficult decisions, and countless prayers whispered through tears.

When impossible choices arise, I don't rely on my own understanding. I bring my fears, my questions, and my exhaustion before God and wait for His direction.

I have fought to keep my mother at home because I believe that preserving her dignity, her familiarity, and her quality of life matters deeply. That choice has often come at a personal cost, but it has always been rooted in love.

Being chosen was never about being the smartest or the most accomplished.

It was about being willing.

It was about loving in a way that reflects my faith.

It was about answering a sacred calling.

For a long time I asked, "Why me?"

Today my answer is different.

Why not me?

If God believed I was capable of carrying this sacred responsibility, then I can trust that He will also provide the strength, wisdom, and grace to fulfill it.

Sometimes the greatest qualifications are not found on a résumé.

Sometimes they are found in a heart that is willing to love, to sacrifice, and to serve.

Perhaps being chosen has never been about our abilities at all.

Perhaps it has always been about our willingness to say, "Yes, Lord."