07/22/2025
There was a time I believed success would finally silence my inner critic. I thought I’d be “somebody” when the degrees were framed, the church was growing, or my book hit the shelves.
In a world of LinkedIn accolades and Instagram highlight reels, it’s easy to feel invisible if we’re not constantly achieving.
But life has a way of humbling our illusions. It’s full of detours, delays, and doors that won’t budge. For every step forward, it can feel like there are two—or three—steps back.
When we hang our identity on the applause of others, eventually the applause fades. The hat we hung on success slips to the floor. We’re left wondering: Who am I if I don’t achieve?
I’ve found comfort in ancient wisdom—words from a man named Agur, tucked quietly into Proverbs:
“Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that is needful for me, lest I be full and deny you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ or lest I be poor and steal and profane the name of my God.” Proverbs 30:8b–9 (ESV)
The Apostle Paul echoes this perspective:
“In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:12–13 (ESV)
But one of the most moving reminders comes from the baptism of Jesus.
In her book Liturgy of the Ordinary, author Tish Harrison Warren points out something stunning: when Jesus emerged from the waters of baptism—before His ministry had even begun—the heavens opened and the Father declared:
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew 3:17 (ESV)
No sermons preached. No miracles performed. No cross carried or tomb emptied.
Tish writes, “It would make more sense if the Father’s proud announcement came after something grand and glorious—the triumphant moment after feeding a multitude or the big reveal after Lazarus is raised.” But instead, the declaration comes when Jesus is still dripping wet and largely unknown.
“He loved others, healed others, preached, taught, rebuked, and redeemed not in order to gain the Father’s approval, but out of His rooted certainty in the Father’s love.” Liturgy of the Ordinary, p. 17
That love, secure, unwavering, undeserved, was the starting point. And so it is for us.
You don’t have to prove your worth through success or accomplishments. You don’t need applause, titles, or achievements to earn the love of God.
He loved you before you took your first breath. Before you made your first mistake. Before you did anything at all.
Rest in the truth: You are already somebody—deeply loved, wholly known, and fully enough in Him.
