In our walk with God, knowledge about Him is essential, but it’s our experiences with Him that gives life to this knowledge. Experience crystalizes what we know, deepens our faith, gives breath to our convictions, and transforms our hearts.

Knowing God is not a one-time event; it’s a progressive journey marked by moments, with each experience building on the last, becoming a thread in the larger story God is weaving. In some of these moments, we may have fallen short of God’s expectations, yet even in our weakness, His grace continues to draw us forward.

There’s a verse I have come to love deeply, a moment between Jesus and Peter that captures the heart of this truth:

“But I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:32)

That verse has stayed with me, not just because of what Jesus said, but how He said it. He knew Peter was about to fall hard, to deny Him out of fear. Yet Jesus didn’t shame him. Instead, He prayed for him. And more than that, He spoke to who Peter would become after the fall.

Jesus didn’t stop the sifting. He didn’t prevent the failure. But He prayed through it, and saw Peter’s restoration before it happened. That’s the kind of High Priest we have, one who is touched by the feeling of our weakness (Hebrews 4:15), who walks with us through the fire (Isaiah 43:2), and who doesn’t give up on us when we fall.

I can relate to having past experiences one would almost want to erase.

Growing up, my parents didn’t have much but they gave all they could so we could chase what they believed would change everything: an education. I went to university with big dreams but an even bigger burden; the kind that quietly says “do well, because if you do maybe we all get a chance at something better”.

So I got into university, carrying that hope like a mantle; I had to succeed. But life didn’t follow the script.

University was harder than I expected. I struggled with fees, missing scripts, and with academic pressure that left me questioning everything. I remember the panic, the sleepless nights, the bargaining prayers, “God, just give me another chance to make my parents proud.”

In the middle of that fear, confusion, and shame, I encountered the Fatherhood of God.

Not through a miracle or breakthrough moment. But through His quiet presence in the mess. I didn’t just survive, God carried me, and by mercy, I graduated.

But even after school, life didn’t instantly change, the wilderness continued. There were jobs I didn’t like, seasons I didn’t understand, and long stretches of waiting, yet now I see what I couldn’t see then: God was working.

The pain taught me to depend on Him.
The failure humbled me.
The delay prepared me.
The struggle gave me perspective.

And the journey became an altar, a place where I saw God clearly and came to know Him more.

Jesus said to Peter:

“When you are converted, strengthen your brothers.” — (Luke 22:32)

That phrase carries both restoration and responsibility. Jesus wasn’t only focused on Peter’s failure, He was commissioning Peter for the future. He knew that what Peter was about to go through would become the very thing that equips him to help others.

Your failure does not disqualify you; it prepares you.
Your hardship gives you a voice.
Your scars give you authority.

The moments you thought disqualified you may be the very ones God will use to reach someone else. This is discipleship, not just restoration, but a call to extend strength to others. To the person reading this:

Jesus is praying for you, He sees your mess, your weight, your doubt, and He is not shocked by it.

He is interceding, not that you’d avoid every storm, but that your faith would not fail.

And when you come through, because you will, strengthen your brethren, Share your story, extend the same grace you received, let your journey become a well others can drink from.

God wastes nothing, Not the pain, Not the failure, Not the delay, Not even the parts of your story you’d rather erase.

In His hands, your journey becomes an altar, a place of transformation for you, and a place of hope for others. So don’t despise the process, embrace the journey, trust the way.

Like David, you’ll find that very lion and very bear prepared you for something bigger.
Like Peter, your denial can give way to deeper discipleship.
Like me, your wilderness can become your witness.
And through it all, Jesus is praying, and that changes everything.

Dear father,
For the one reading this who carries questions in their heart,
who is trying to figure things out,
who feels forgotten or weighed down by the search for a way out
for the one who thinks time is no longer on their side,
for the person starting all over.
Remind them that You are here, and You see.
That the vision is still for an appointed time
and even in seasons of silence, it will speak.
Let them know You are still working,
that all things truly work together for their good.
Give them courage to trust You again.
Grace to wait in faith.
And the confidence that nothing is ever wasted in Your hands.
Amen.

Ebube Opara
IG: @ebube_opara
Push Buttons is a weekly devotional of The Powerpoint Tribe.