grace given me

Last week, we had our company board meetings—an impressive display of knowledge and expertise. Scientific research, field observations, financial reports, and innovative ideas for growth filled the agenda. I work with some incredibly smart, passionate people committed to making a difference. But as with any gathering of high achievers, the undercurrent was familiar. There’s always a bit of jockeying. Let’s just be honest—I was part of it too. We all want to be seen. To be heard. To be acknowledged for the impact we’re making. Maybe it’s the hope of a promotion, a raise, or just a little recognition. Maybe we just want to know that what we offer means something. At the heart of it? We want people to know… That we know something. That we’re capable. Competent. Valuable. 

But what if that drive is misleading us? There’s a natural inclination in us to want to be seen as the expert. If we’re the one with the answers, maybe people will respect us. Maybe we’ll finally feel worthy. But that’s the enemy’s trap – the trap of self-validation. He deceives us into chasing affirmation through knowledge, as though being the smartest person in the room secures our identity. But what happens when we don’t know the answer? When someone else takes the spotlight? Suddenly, that worth we worked so hard to claim feels fragile—because it was never meant to carry us.

1 Corinthians 13:9 reminds us, “For we know in part…” In other words—we don’t have all the answers. And we never will. But there is one who does. As Jesus prepared to leave the earth, his disciples finally caught on. In John 16:30 they say to him, “Now we understand that you know everything…” Everything. Jesus never jockeyed for position. He never puffed up his credentials. And yet, his wisdom was irresistible. Why? Because his knowledge wasn’t rooted in self-exaltation—it was grounded in the glory of the Father. That’s the posture we’re invited into. Not to be the know-it-all, but to be known-by-the-God-of-all. If we want to be people who speak with wisdom, let it be because our minds are rooted in the one who holds all truth. 

Sometimes, though, our fear of being unseen can drive us toward self-promotion. We push harder. We speak louder. We collect accomplishments and accolades as proof. But Jesus offers a better way. In John 17, Jesus prays. Not for recognition. Not for applause. But for God’s glory to be revealed through him. “Glorify your Son so he can give glory back to you.” (John 17:1) It’s not self-glorification that fulfills us—it’s reflecting God’s glory. And when that becomes our aim, the Father glorifies us in return… not because we earned it, but because our hearts are aligned with his.

Psalm 2 asks: “Why do the nations conspire and the peoples plot in vain?” It’s a tale as old as time. Conspiring, plotting, striving. God created us for good work—and he wants us to do it well. But he never meant for our work to become our worth, for what we know to become our identity. Even when our work is deeply good—like a doctor healing a patient or a counselor restoring a marriage. Jesus sent the disciples out to heal, to cast out demons, and to proclaim the Good News. And they did. Powerfully. But in Luke 10:20 he reminded them: “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” So today, whether you’re leading a team, a company, a family, or just your own day—don’t strive to be the one who knows it all. Strive to be the one who knows him who knows it all. That’s where real wisdom—and real worth—is found.

Lord, I exalt you. I acknowledge you as the all-knowing one. I confess that, far too often, I believe my thoughts and ways are best. I repent of the moments I’ve searched for sufficiency outside of you—the times I’ve doubted that you are enough and tried to be enough on my own. I rejoice in the truth that by the blood of your son, and through my acceptance of him, my name is written in heaven. Wow. My name is written in heaven—my heart quickened as I wrote that. Thank You. I give all glory to you. Amen.