Not Qualified, but Called

What God breathes doesn’t need credentials.

By Josh Singleton | Founder and Lead Cultivator, The Neighborhood Garden Project

 
 

I serve as Executive Director of The Neighborhood Garden Project, though nothing in my background says I should. I never studied nonprofit management or strategic leadership. I didn’t climb a professional ladder or collect credentials that would make this position make sense. The world measures readiness by experience and expertise, but that’s not how this began. This role wasn’t earned; it was breathed into being.

When God invited me into this work, He didn’t hand me a roadmap or a résumé. He simply asked for availability. I’ve learned that when something is born of Heaven, it doesn’t come through ambition but through alignment. It comes quietly, through surrender. The garden was never about building something for God; it was about letting Him breathe through what already existed.

In the nonprofit world, leadership often comes wrapped in language about skill, growth, and excellence. There are degrees, seminars, and certifications designed to make a person “qualified” to lead an organization. Those tools aren’t wrong. They bring structure and accountability, and I’ve seen how God can use them. But education can’t teach discernment. It can’t teach you how to wait. It can’t teach you how to stay when nothing looks like progress, or how to recognize the quiet rhythm of fruit forming beneath the surface.

School can train the hands, but only the Spirit can form the heart.

As the garden has grown, I’ve noticed a pattern in the people who have been drawn to this work. None of them were recruited. They were revealed. They didn’t show up looking for roles or recognition. They simply kept showing up — to the soil, to the table, to the process of becoming. Over time, their lives began to echo the same posture that built this place: patience, peace, and a willingness to be formed before being seen. Their fruit already agreed with the soil. That’s when I knew they belonged here.

I’ve come to hold that truth with humility. God is using traditional systems and established models to bring good into the world. Many faithful leaders operate within those frameworks and carry the same heart of service I do. This isn’t a critique of them. It’s a reflection on how I’ve been shaped differently.

Still, I can’t ignore what becomes clear when striving takes the lead — that ego-driven leadership does exist. It often hides behind language of excellence and impact, but its root is fear — the need to prove, to perform, to be seen as successful. The structure itself isn’t the problem; the motive underneath it is. For me, the daily work is to remain aware of what drives me. Am I responding to invitation or to insecurity? Am I building something for God, or allowing Him to breathe through what He’s already written? Those questions keep me anchored in peace.

This whole journey has shown me that fruit doesn’t need to announce itself. It just grows. When the soil is right, when the conditions are surrendered, when presence outweighs performance, the results take care of themselves. That’s the way this garden has come to life — not through effort, but through agreement.

I didn’t build this. God breathed on it. And just like in the beginning, He’s still breathing on dust and calling it good. That’s enough for me. I don’t need to prove why I’m here or justify how I got here. The peace speaks louder than any credential, and the fruit tells the story better than I ever could.

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When the Plate Is Empty, the Soil Still Speaks