Miriam’s story caught my attention because we get to see so many different versions of her.

We first meet her as a young girl standing near the Nile, watching over her baby brother Moses. She was brave enough to approach Pharaoh’s daughter and quick enough to find a way for their own mother to care for him.

Years later, we see her again after God parts the Red Sea. This time she’s not the little girl watching from a distance. She’s called a prophetess, leading women in worship and celebrating what God had done.

God had given Miriam her own gifts, her own influence, and her own place in His story.

But then we get to Numbers 12.

Miriam and Aaron begin criticizing Moses, and eventually the real issue starts to come out:

“Has the Lord spoken only through Moses? Hasn’t He also spoken through us?”

That sentence got me.

Because God had spoken through Miriam.

She wasn’t imagining her calling. She really was gifted. She really was a leader.

But somewhere along the way, she started looking at what God had given Moses instead of being secure in what God had given her.

And I can relate to that more than I’d like to admit.

I’ve walked through a lot of life changes lately, and there have definitely been moments when I’ve looked around and wondered why someone else’s path seemed clearer or why certain things seemed to happen more easily for other people.

It’s so easy to compare when you’re still trying to figure out what God is doing in your own life.

But Miriam reminded me that someone else’s calling doesn’t take anything away from mine.

God didn’t need Miriam to be Moses.

He needed Miriam to be Miriam.

Then God corrected her.

And I think this might be the part of her story I needed most.

Because sometimes we think being corrected means we’ve failed God. We get embarrassed. Defensive. We start questioning ourselves.

But God correcting Miriam wasn’t the end of her story.

She spent seven days outside the camp, and then she came back.

In fact, the people waited for her before continuing their journey.

God corrected her, but He didn’t discard her.

There’s a difference.

I’m learning that sometimes growth looks like God showing me something in myself that I don’t particularly want to see.

Maybe it’s comparison.

Maybe it’s pride.

Maybe it’s trying to control something because I’m uncomfortable with where He’s leading me.

That doesn’t mean God is finished with me.

It means He’s still working on me.

And maybe that’s one of the most beautiful parts of walking with Him.

We don’t have to have it all together to be used by God.

We just have to remain willing to let Him change us.

Miriam was brave. She was gifted. She was a leader. She worshiped God boldly.

And she messed up.

Both things can be true.

Her mistake didn’t erase her calling.

And neither do ours.