And for my 22nd year...

I don't have to prove myself.

I avoid Pastor Tim like a plague—not because he’s mean or bad or anything. As a matter of fact, I avoid him specifically because he has this special gift from God that when he prays for you, he gets very specific. And this Sunday, I just didn’t want to be read to filth, because I had been going through a hard time with God. I hadn’t read my Bible or prayed, and that’s not to say that if I don’t do those things it means God loves me less, but I felt disconnected. I had just been through such dark weeks that I didn’t know how I was gonna make it through, or if I was going to be the same person, believing the same things that I once did.

So today in church, when he gets on stage and we’re praying for someone who, by the grace of God, survived a highway accident, he comes down off the altar. Everyone’s going home. I don’t know how he finds me—literally down the aisle—points at me and just mouths it, “Do you need prayer?” I hesitate for a second and then I say no. Then he asks me again and I say no. And then he says, “Okay.”

After a while, I joined the line because he starts praying for people. He is a pastor, but he’s also part of the prayer team, as pastors are. And then when he reaches my turn and he looks at me, he was like, “Oh, so you did need prayer.” I said, “Yeah… when you pointed at me, I got a little scared,” and I don’t know—in my head I didn’t want to say the real reason. But then when he held my hands just to pray, I wasn’t necessarily ready to feel the way I used to feel the other times. This time it was quick, almost as if God felt like I already knew what to do, or like He wanted me to stand up—not by myself, but almost as if by myself. And he prayed over me for the grace to stop trying to prove myself.

I’m about to turn 22 in 2 or3 weeks. I’ve been dreading my birthday because, for some reason, I’ve convinced myself that I have accomplished nothing. That for 22 years of my life, I have done nothing but be an utter failure. Mind you, I’m getting my master’s degree in a top university. I’ve worked for and with universities in a field that I am recognized in. I have published and posted and collaborated and put my blood, sweat, and tears into any and everything that I’ve ever cared about. I’ve done the work. I have the proof. And still I feel like a failure because it’s not exactly where I thought I’d be.

And you know what? It brings me to understand how deeply foolish and ungrateful, but also stupid I’ve been, because I’ve come to realize that no matter what you get or who you become or what you attach to your name—and I know this is going to sound a bit strange because it’s giving “money doesn’t matter,” but it’s only the rich that are able to say that—you know, but really, I’ve been trying to prove myself to everyone, and it’s been driving me insane.

There was a type of perfectionism that I developed, and I thought to myself it was a spirit of excellence. I would tell people, “I just try to be excellent.” On my LinkedIn I have the little banner, “I can, so I will.” And there was a time that spirit of perfectionism actually helped me get things done. Yes, I had sleepless nights. Yes, it led to me destroying myself mentally and physically—which we will not talk about. But now it just keeps me stuck.

And for the first time, it stopped me from getting anything done. Maybe not for the first time, but for the most potent time—it really stopped me from getting anything done. But most of all, it stopped me from really allowing myself to experience love that was being shown to me by God and by the people around me. Because even though I was experiencing such a great community, I had convinced myself in some way or form that I was not part of them and I would have to earn my place. That I would never be a part of them. I would never have what they had.

And I don’t know where I got this lie from—that I had to earn and prove myself. That I had to act my faith. That yes, I was a Christian, but I had to act Christian. That yes, I was someone passionate about my occupation, but I had to act it out.

I don’t have to act out my passion. I don’t have to act out the things I love. I love the things I love, and whether I know so much about them or so little, it doesn’t change the fact that I love the things I love. And I am who I am, regardless of how many times I fall, regardless of how many mistakes I make, regardless of how many times I break.

And I’ve broken many…..many times.

A couple days ago, I was crying to God, and I remember when I watched The Chosen and Mary Magdalene said, “He fixed me, and I broke again.” Never in my life have I related to a sentence so deeply. But then I realized that is literally the power of the blood of Jesus. And if I’m someone that claims to live by the blood, if I break again, He can fix me over and over and over and over and over again. Because this world is hard, and this world is painful, and this world is debilitating, and it’s destructive, and there’s so much hurt. And that hurt can get on you. But the blood of Jesus is cleansing, so every time it gets on me, I can go back.

I forgot that I could go back.

So this time, I felt like I had to prove myself. And when I couldn’t prove myself, I forgot to turn back and ask for help. When things got hard and I started getting confused, I forgot that I wasn’t the same person I was when I didn’t know Christ. I forgot that I am seated in heavenly places. I forgot my identity. And I forgot that there is no darkness within me, because the light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

And I don’t have to earn salvation. I don’t have to earn redemption. It is a gift.
If I don’t have to prove myself for Jesus, I don’t have to prove myself for this world.
And I don’t have to prove myself even to myself.

I have nothing to prove to anyone. I have my life to live, and I am free to make all the mistakes that God gives me the permission to make. Because I will make mistakes, but by the grace of God they will not be mistakes that will destroy me. I plan to make adorable, lighthearted, very simple, and even beneficial mistakes. I do not plan to be perfect. And I want the grace to accept and to love and to nurture all that He’s given me, and to be grateful for the beautiful community and life that I am living now, and to not waste it—because it’s everything I prayed for, even though I don’t fully recognize it, even though I don’t fully understand it.

It’s really hard, and it’s true what they say: if you grow up in a burning house, you think the rest of the world is burning. The rest of the world is not burning. And I keep having to wake up and convince myself and correct myself and remind myself and tell myself: the world is not on fire. The world is not on fire.

But I’m not who I was before, and I know the renewing of the mind takes a while. But my soul has been saved, and my spirit has been redeemed. There is no darkness within me.

So for my 22nd year, my goal is to live freely.
Free from everything.
Free from self-doubt.
Free from the shackles of external validation.
Free from the need to prove myself to anyone.
Free from living for anyone but God.
Free from punishing myself.
Free from punishing others.
Free from allowing myself to be tormented.
Free from stopping myself from enjoying life, from feeling and experiencing love, joy, peace.
Free from whatever it is that stops me from enjoying the friendship of God to the full extent of my human abilities.

I wasn’t born free, no….but I was made free by the sacrifice and blood of Jesus. That means something, I have proof of my freedom. I don’t understand everything about that blood, but I do know that it’s powerful. I know it set me free from a lot of things, and I know there’s so much more it can set me free from. I am so ready to keep on being free.

And I invite you—and I invite all of you. We should all be free.