grace given me

On Christmas Eve, we attended a festive service at church, holding candles and singing carols. While singing O Holy Night, I was stirred by a lyric I have sung a million times but never really thought twice about. We sang: “Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.” In that moment, the weight of those words pressed upon me. My soul felt its worth. It is worth repeating—my soul felt its worth. For several moments, I couldn’t concentrate on the rest of the song. I simply reveled in the true meaning of Christmas. 

Scripture tells us that God created each of us intentionally. “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb… I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13–14). With a purpose and a plan, he made each of us. Not just for this world, but for eternity he made us. To spend today and forever with him, he made us. Yet, we are prone to wander, to rebel, to distance ourselves from him for all kinds of reasons. Because God is perfect, holy, good, and love itself, he made a way to reconcile us to himself. He built a bridge we could never build on our own. “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son” (John 3:16). He sent his son in sacrificial love and the world was never the same. Souls were never the same. 

Earlier this year, I took a business ministry class designed for people looking to bring a kingdom mindset into their work. Since many of us spend the majority of our waking hours “working,” however we define it, work becomes one of the greatest opportunities for faith formation. It can expose our flesh quickly—our desire to be noticed, promoted, paid more, to be influential and powerful. None of these things are inherently bad, but they are vulnerable to pride, comparison, performance, greed, and control. When submitted to God, work can sandpaper rough edges and refine our character. It can also become a mission field. I once read that as a Christian, “you might be the only church someone at work ever experiences.” That truth alone can change how we show up.

So, I start this class and during the first meeting with my mentor, I explain where I have been stuck. Where I feel like maybe I haven’t reached my full potential. I shared experiences and mindsets not just from my current job but from throughout my career. I admitted that despite degrees, titles, and years of experience, I still felt like I was coming up short. Underneath all of it was a question I couldn’t shake: why did it still feel like I wasn’t enough?

In grace, my mentor gently redirected me toward worthiness. My assignment was simple: daily  affirmations of God’s truth. Declaring that God not only purposefully formed me, but was excited to make me. Exactly the way I am for such a time as this. “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). The enemy’s strategy is often doubt. If he can get us to doubt, then he can dilute the very work God intends to do specifically through us. Plans and projects that only I can do with how I was made, the family and community I was placed in, and all of the other places only I can reach. 

I proclaimed truth until I believed it. My soul began to feel its worth. 

What surprised me most was the ripple effect. Feeling my worth initially felt risky—almost arrogant. Would it fuel comparison? In God’s upside-down Kingdom, the opposite happened. The more I recognized my worth, the more clearly I saw the worth of others—and the more I wanted them to see it too. It’s contagious. Once you get a taste, you want everyone you know to have it. As the song continues, “The thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices.” God may not work in formulas, but I am seeing a pattern: when God restores our sense of worth, hope is renewed, and joy that transcends circumstances takes hold.

Lord, you are so worthy and worthy to be praised. Made in your image, thank you for planting worth in my soul. Thank you for activating it by sending your son. Help me to be reminded of my worth. The world says to chase it, in all its fake forms. But you just supply it because you love us. Thank you for the renewed thrill of hope, even in places and relationships that I thought were hopeless. The joy of the Lord is becoming my strength. Amen.