You must renew your mind with this fact: You are fully worthy to God. The Lord sacrificed everything to have a relationship with you, including death on the cross at Calvary … The Lord is the only One with an unrestricted view of who you are on the inside. In His sight, you are “fearfully and wonderfully made.”
—Charles F. Stanley, Prayer: The Ultimate Conversation
I’ve met very few people who feel truly at ease with discussing their worthiness in any aspect of life. In fact, many who’ve achieved a striking level of earthly success or fame have confessed that they have never stopped feeling like imposters—even when the accolades started rolling in, the publicity tours began, or the account balances grew.
I think of the people I know who—after decades of attempts—are still trying to prove their worthiness to a parent, partner, siblings, or friends. Whatever they do, no matter how many years pass, nothing quite seems to answer the lack they see inside themselves. It’s no wonder we who sin so readily, teetering between faithfulness and apathy, struggle to believe that God, who sees and knows all, loves us without condition. And not in spite of who we are, but because of it—beloved sons and daughters made in His image.
Perhaps I’m speaking only for myself when I say that accepting God’s vision of who I am is one of life’s enduring struggles. But something tells me I’m not alone—that this is a common and far-reaching condition. Hence Dr. Stanley’s encouragement to renew our minds by meditating on the fact that we are, indeed, fully worthy. And in our comparison culture, we need that renewal frequently.
Like Peter in the Upper Room, we respond to the humility and generosity of Christ with refusal—the audacity to tell God what He will or won’t do with us.
The insidious thing, at the heart of any disbelief about God’s unconditional love for us, is pride masquerading as humility. Like Peter in the Upper Room, we respond to the humility and generosity of Christ with refusal—the audacity to tell God what He will or won’t do with us, what He should or shouldn’t think:
Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.”
And Peter, ever earnest, replies,
“Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” (John 13:5-9 ESV)
Though this passage isn’t strictly about worthiness, it exemplifies the pride in our hearts when we look at Jesus, standing by to serve us, and say, “Not me, Lord.”
“The Lord is the only One with an unrestricted view of who you are on the inside. In His sight, you are ‘fearfully and wonderfully made.’”
To deny the believer’s worth in Christ is to diminish what was accomplished on the cross—not in actuality, of course, but in how its power manifests in our lives. In the end, to contemplate our worthiness is not really to think of ourselves at all but to stand in awe of God’s goodness and generosity, which transcend our wildest imaginings of what goodness and generosity can be. We simply can’t see ourselves clearly—can’t find out who we really are—apart from communion with Him. In the words of Paul, our true life is “hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3).
What would you do with your life if you no longer carried the burden of feeling unworthy? What would you say to the people closest to you and how would you love them differently? Maybe our transformation begins in treating ourselves in like manner—in choosing to live as if what God says is true. I have a hunch that by taking steps in that direction, we’ll find the burden growing lighter, our hearts leaping higher and further—beyond the mere knowledge that we are worthy, living and moving and having our being in the fullness of His love.
