What if everything you have been chasing your whole life is leading you back to the very place you started?
We can spend years trying to become somebody, convincing ourselves that the next accomplishment or opportunity will finally make us feel complete. We tell ourselves that once we reach the next level, we will be satisfied. Then we get there, enjoy it for a little while and start looking for the next thing.
Before long, we're running so hard after what we want that we forget to ask ourselves why we're running in the first place.
When I was eleven years old, I attended a local baseball camp, hoping to find my “thing.” Baseball was cool, and I was pretty good at it, but nothing really clicked until middle school, when I fell in love with basketball. The court became a place where I could challenge myself and build something to be proud of. Even at that age, I believed that if I worked harder than everyone else, I could make a name for myself.
So that's exactly what I did. I practiced and trained every day, sometimes for hours. It wasn't until I won my first basketball award that something changed. People started noticing me, and I liked it.
The recognition motivated me to work even harder. But looking back now, I can see that I was doing more than trying to become a better basketball player. Somewhere along the way, I began looking to my accomplishments to tell me who I was.
I wasn't just trying to succeed. I was trying to prove that I mattered.
Fast-forward to college. I starred on the court, earned major awards, and even heard people I respected say I had what it took to reach the next level. From the outside, things looked good. I had the skills and the kind of attention many young athletes only dream about.
But when I returned to my dorm room after a game, something was still missing. I didn't know how to explain what that something was, so I did what I had learned to do whenever something didn't make sense: I worked even harder.
Maybe you know that feeling. You get the job you always wanted, accomplish something people said you couldn't, or finally get noticed by the people you've spent years trying to impress. But then, when you look deep inside yourself, a question you can no longer avoid shows up.
Is this it?
For years, I kept searching for answers in people, places, and things, only to find myself coming to the same conclusion: There has to be more, right?
Somewhere along the way, I also became the person people called for advice. If someone had a problem or needed encouragement, I tried to be there. I wanted to help people figure things out as best I could. Sometimes, I acted as if I had a customer service desk in my own head!
Don't get me wrong. Helping people is a good thing. God calls us to love and serve one another. The problem begins when we start looking to our accomplishments or other people's approval to establish our worth. Even something good, like helping others, can become caught up with our need to feel needed.
I had become so accustomed to showing up for other people that I needed to take an honest look at what was happening within me. Was I really serving because I wanted to love people well, or had I also begun measuring my own worth by how much I could do for them?
That question brought me face-to-face with something I could no longer ignore: Who am I when I have nothing left to prove?
I needed to stop looking to what I could accomplish to tell me who I was and begin learning to see myself in light of who God is and what He says is true.
And this is where the road back home began.
When life doesn't turn out the way we planned, it can be tempting to believe that our best days are behind us. Before long, we may start living as though our past has the final say over our future.
But our circumstances do not have the authority to tell the whole story of our lives. When I think about what it means to trust God when life takes an unexpected turn, I think about Joseph.
Joseph knew what it was like to have his life change without warning. He went from being his father's favored son to being thrown into a pit by his own brothers. He was sold into slavery, falsely accused, and sent to prison for something he did not do. His life looked nothing like the future he might have imagined for himself.
But his story did not end in the pit or the prison. Even when Joseph could not see how everything would come together, God was still at work.
Years later, Joseph told his brothers in Genesis 50:20, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.”
Joseph did not have to pretend the betrayal never happened. He could acknowledge the wrongdoing and still recognize that God had brought good out of what others intended for evil.
His story reminds us that people can mistreat us, circumstances in our lives can change, and sometimes our plans can fall apart, but those things do not put God out reach.
We may not understand what He is doing in every season, and we should not assume that every painful experience will resolve the way we expect. But we can trust that the wrong others do does not have the final authority over God's purposes.
Sometimes, we spend so much time trying to prove what we can do that we lose sight of the One to whom we belong. We become consumed with building a life that others can recognize while neglecting the relationship that gives our lives their deepest meaning.
I know something about that struggle because, after years of chasing recognition and looking for satisfaction in places that could never provide it, I began to recognize my need to return to God.
I wish I could tell you that I have figured everything out or that I have reached a place where the desire to prove myself no longer exists. But that wouldn't be the truth.
God is still working on me. I am still learning and discovering what it means to trust Him with my identity.
And perhaps that is an important part of the journey: returning to God doesn't mean we suddenly have every answer. It means we stop asking those things to do what only God can do.
The road back home is about more than becoming a better version of myself. It is about returning to God and trusting Him with my life.
The goal was never to make my name great. It's to live in such a way that people can see how great God is.
Maybe the greatest discovery we can make is realizing that the road we thought would take us somewhere else has brought us back to the One we needed all along.
Pray With Me
Father God,
Thank You for reminding me where my identity comes from. Forgive me for the times I have looked to success and the approval of others to tell me who I am. Help me to stay connected to You and use the gifts You have given me for Your glory. Heal the places in me that still seek validation, and teach me to trust You when life doesn't look the way I expected. Keep my heart focused on You, and let my story point people back to Your goodness. May every opportunity and blessing bring honor to Your name alone. In Jesus' name, amen.
