As a little girl, I never felt I was worth very much.

I always felt I wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough or good enough. I sensed my parents tolerated me but certainly didn’t delight in me. And if your own parents couldn’t love you, then who could?

Then there was the definitive day in the eleventh grade that took my self-worth to an all-time low. I can still remember what I was wearing: lavender bell-bottom low-rise jeans, a bubble knit short-sleeve top, Dr. Scholl’s wooden sandals, and a blue bandanna tied around my head of long, oily hair that I hadn’t had time to wash that morning. This was acceptable attire when I was in high school, except for the days when a special awards or recognition assembly was held.

In homeroom that morning, the principal announced over the intercom that an unscheduled assembly would take place at 11 a.m. to recognize students being inducted into the National Honor Society. That’s when I understood why so many of my friends were dressed a notch above the norm. Their parents had received the secretive congratulatory call the night before and made sure their kids had washed their hair and left the frayed jeans in the drawer.

Some 400 teens found seats in the darkened auditorium. The principal made a speech of commendation from the podium and then said, “Will the following students come forward when your name is called to receive a certificate and a candle to be lit by last year’s inductees?”

The principal called each name, and I watched several of my friends walk across the immense stage. Then, to my horror and surprise, my name was called. Why didn’t my parents warn me, I thought. I look horrible — and I did.

When the houselights went up, I panned the back of the room where proud parents snapped pictures and pointed out their progeny to others standing on tiptoe to catch a glimpse. My parents were not among them — they never were.

I later discovered that my dad had received the call from the school the night before but forgot to tell my mom. Even though they both worked across the street from the school, they didn’t come to the ceremony. In my mind, their absence confirmed what I’d suspected for the past 17 years. I’m just not worth the trouble.

I didn’t care about the certificate or the principal’s accolades. What I really wanted to know was that I had value to the two people who mattered most.

Perhaps you’ve had painful experiences in the past that left you feeling worthless. Jesus wants you to know you have great value. He gave His life so that you would!

“Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows (Matthew 10:29-31).

In other words …

You are worth more than the money in your bank account.

You are worth more than the number of friends you have on Facebook.

You are worth more than the number of followers on your Twitter account.

You are worth more than the number of meetings and appointments on your calendar.

You are worth more than your successes or failures.

You are worth more than your level of education.

You are worth more than the price tags in your closet.

You are worth more than your accomplishments or lack of them.

You are worth more than many sparrows.

It took many years, but finally I took hold of Jesus’ words: You are worth more. That’s what Jesus wants you to know today.

Oh, Lord, help me to really get this. I’ve spent so much of my life feeling like I’m not good enough. Help me see that because of the finished work of Jesus on the cross and His Spirit in me, I am enough. Help me see I have great worth as a child of God and image-bearer of my Heavenly Father. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

This devotion brought tears to my eyes. I pray it opens someone’s eyes to know and see there worth, to know that they are enough. Remember today, you are worth more to Jesus.

Have a beautiful and uplifting day in The Lord!

Today’s Reading is 1 Peter 1:24-25

The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him. (Psalm 28:7)

It was years ago when my firstborn traipsed through a muddy pumpkin field in search of the perfect pumpkin, but I can picture him now. Wrapped in a fuzzy yellow sweatshirt and an ornery grin, he moved up and down the rows of tangled vines and inspected the bulging orange fruit.

I’d already made it clear we were leaving with just one, so he stooped to consider the shape and texture, the width and height of every pumpkin that caught his eye.

He wiggled them and slapped them, sniffed them and studied them. Finally, he gave a Goliath-sized gourd a gentle kick and stared at me with an expectant grin. “I want this one, Mom!”

Weigh it, then pay it! the sign posted on the edge of the pumpkin field had declared.

One look at Goliath, and I knew I didn’t have enough money in my pocket to pay for my son’s pumpkin of choice.

But before I could voice my objection, a coverall-clad farmer sauntered to our side. “I’ll give you that pumpkin for free if you can carry it,” he said to my boy with a conspiratorial wink.

My little one nodded, then wrapped his spindly arms around the pumpkin’s massive middle and tried to lift it out of the dirt. He grunted and heaved. Heaved and grunted, but that pumpkin wouldn’t budge.

Finally, my preschooler plopped on the ground beside that giant gourd, and I braced myself for the angry wails that were sure to follow.

Much to my surprise, there were no tears or tantrums, just an honest admission: “I’m not strong enough to carry this,” my boy told the kind-eyed farmer.

The old pumpkin grower rubbed his silver beard and held my son’s earnest gaze. “Sorry about that, young man …” he said.

“It’s okay,” my 4-year-old replied with a confident smile. “My daddy’s really strong.”

A sing-song chuckle erupted from the farmer’s lips, and I laughed with relief when I realized that my son hadn’t stayed stuck on what he couldn’t do. Instead, he allowed his weakness to remind him of what his daddy could do.

And there on that pumpkin-dotted hilltop, it struck me. That’s all God asks of His children, too.

God doesn’t expect us to stir up our own strength or multiply our own might. He doesn’t command us to conquer our challenges alone or give up when we face our gaps. He invites us to seek His with-ness in our weakness and enlist His extravagance in our lack.

Scripture reminds us that our strength is found in Christ, (Philippians 4:13) and our might comes from our Maker (Psalm 24:8).

Perhaps that’s why, in today’s key verse, we find King David singing with confidence when it seems he’ll soon be sunk.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him.” (Psalm 28:7)

And centuries later, we discover the Apostle Paul echoing the same sentiment from a stinky prison cell, where he declares:

“Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong. (2 Corinthians 12:10) 

King David and the Apostle Paul understood what you and I would be wise to remember: Our weaknesses can set the stage for God’s strength.

Our lack can pave the way for His provision.

Our gaps can be windows to His glory.

Our “not enough” can make room for His “exceeding abundantly” (Ephesians 3:20).

Friends, when we truly understand this radical truth, something amazing happens.

We become less concerned about what we can’t do and more convinced of what God can do.

Where we once felt frustration, we find freedom. Where we once felt discouragement, we find hope. Where we once felt frailty, we find strength.

And just like Paul, David, and a 4-year-old I once knew, we discover that our weaknesses aren’t fatal when we have a Daddy who’s faithful … and really, really strong.

Dear Jesus, I want to know You as my strong Father. Teach me how to live in the freedom of Your strength rather than in the frustration of my shortcomings. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

What a beautiful devotion. I pray it encourages and reminds you today to live in the freedom of His strength rather than our own. Amen! I love this! Be encouraged today. 

Have a beautiful and uplifting day in The Lord! 

Today’s Reading is Ephesians 5:19-20

Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber. But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice. And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice of strangers. This parable spake Jesus unto them: but they understood not what things they were which he spake unto them. Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep. All that ever came before me are thieves and robbers: but the sheep did not hear them. I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture. The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep. The hireling fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine. As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the sheep. And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd. Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment have I received of my Father. (John 10:1-18) 

If you’re like most people today, you probably don’t know much about shepherding sheep, but in biblical times this was a common occupation. Every evening, the local shepherds could be seen leading their flock into a common fold for the night. And each morning, they would call their own sheep out of the communal fold and lead them to pasture.

It was the shepherd’s job to find adequate food and water, protect the sheep from predators, rescue those who wandered off, and care for the weak or wounded. The shepherd lived among his flock and slept across the doorway of the fold to keep the sheep in and the wolves out. Although this was a lowly, dirty, and exhausting job, Christ used it to describe Himself, saying, “I am the good shepherd” (John 10:11; John 10:14).

The Sovereign God of the universe humbled Himself, became a man, and lived among sinful, errant, and willful human “sheep.” He laid down His life for them so that all who believe in Him could enter into the fold and become part of His flock. And once they become His sheep, He does for them exactly what the shepherds long ago did—He feeds them, protects them from enemies, brings them back when they stray, strengthens the weak, and cares for the hurting.

Being one of Christ’s sheep is the most secure and comforting position possible. He knows each of us intimately and calls us by name, leading us every step of the way through this life. And when we are truly His, we can distinguish His voice from all the others and will follow Him in obedience. 

I love today’s devotion. What a visual. I pray it blesses you and reminds you today and every day, just how important you are to Him. I am so grateful He is my shepherd. 

Have a beautiful and uplifting day in The Lord!

Today’s Reading is Psalm 25:14-15