Christian identity

Who Are You When Nobody Needs You?

/ Baylee Snelling / Leave a comment

I’ve realized how much of adulthood is spent being needed.

Someone needs an answer.

Something needs to be done.

A problem needs to be solved.

A responsibility needs to be handled.

There is almost always someone or something asking something of us.

And after enough time…

being useful can quietly become part of our identity.

We start measuring good days by how much we accomplished.

Rest feels like something we have to earn.

Doing something simply because we enjoy it can somehow feel selfish.

And being needed begins to feel strangely similar to being valuable.

But those aren’t the same thing.

I wonder how much of my worth I’ve unknowingly attached to what I can do for other people.

Because eventually there will be moments when nobody needs anything from me.

Nothing to fix.

Nothing to accomplish.

Nothing to prove.

And who am I then?

Scripture tells me that before I ever did anything for God…

He loved me.

Before I could serve Him.

Before I could accomplish anything.

Before I could make myself useful.

I was His.

Maybe that’s something I need to remember more often.

My usefulness may change from season to season.

My responsibilities will too.

But my worth was never supposed to depend on either of them.

I don’t have to earn rest by becoming exhausted first.

I don’t have to accomplish something before I’m allowed to enjoy the day I’ve been given.

And I don’t have to be needed in order to matter.

Because before I am useful to anyone…

I am already loved by God.

“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!”
— 1 John 3:1 (NIV)

What Do I Believe About Myself?

/ Baylee Snelling / 1 Comment

Our preacher said something this morning that stayed with me:

“I am what I believe about myself.”

And immediately, I started thinking about all the things I’ve believed about myself over the years.

Some were true.

Some weren’t.

Some were things I decided on my own.

Others were handed to me by people whose words I trusted more than I should have.

And somewhere along the way, those beliefs became part of the way I saw myself.

That’s what makes the next thing he said so important:

The gospel restores what sin distorts.

Sin distorts.

Grace restores.

I can’t stop thinking about those two words.

Because distortion doesn’t necessarily change what something is.

It changes the way we see it.

A distorted mirror doesn’t change the person standing in front of it.

It changes the reflection.

And I wonder how many of us have spent years believing the reflection.

Not capable enough.

Not worthy enough.

Too much of this.

Not enough of that.

Defined by something we did.

Or something someone did to us.

But grace doesn’t ask the distorted reflection who we are.

God does.

And Scripture tells a very different story.

Chosen.

Loved.

Redeemed.

Forgiven.

His workmanship.

Made new.

Maybe grace restoring our identity isn’t about becoming someone we’ve never been.

Maybe it’s about finally seeing ourselves through the eyes of the One who knew exactly who He was creating.

That makes me reconsider the sentence:

“I am what I believe about myself.”

Because perhaps the more important question is:

What do I believe about myself—and who taught me to believe it?

If the answer isn’t consistent with what God says about me…

maybe that’s not an identity I was ever meant to carry.

Sin distorts.

Grace restores.

And sometimes restoration begins by looking into a different mirror.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

— Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)