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