God's Workmanship, Not Mine

I was having a bad day, though at the moment, I can't remember why. Most likely, I had worked myself into a funk over little things. It may have been a bad hair day, or maybe I felt I'd made more than my share of mistakes. I could have been embarrassed about something stupid I said or some public gaffe, or maybe I  was feeling left out or overlooked or frumpy. It was likely a combination of several things, but the common thread in these "bad day" triggers is a failure to live up to my expectations. Once I give in to the nagging feeling that I don't measure up, a dark cloud gathers around me, and all looks grey.   

And it was under one of those dark clouds that I found myself reverting to a bad habit. As I let my mind wander at the end of this bad day, I started thinking about my resume, the cool projects I had worked on and the volunteer work I had done. I recalled treasured compliments and lingered over a mental list of achievements. I'm not talking about huge, earth shattering accomplishments, but merely things I could look back on and say, "I did a good job."  

I was feeling like a loser, and so I was seeking solace in past successes. That is, until I realized what I was doing and gasped out loud.   

For years, I defined myself by my work: what I could produce, what I could achieve, and how indispensable I could become. In school, at home, at work, in whatever organization I joined, I thrived on efficiency, praise, and results. And while there is value in hard work and nothing wrong with marking our achievements, ultimately, it's all vanity. It doesn't last, it doesn't satisfy, and it isn't sustainable because perpetually striving to live up to a self-imposed standard of perfection is exhausting. When your identity is based on outcomes, you're only as good as your last win...and nobody wins all the time.   

As Christians, we're told to work with all our heart, and we should certainly celebrate our gifts and use them for His glory. But our gifts, and what we do with them, are not who we are. They aren't the source of our value. My results are not who I am. The work I do is not who I am. Even my abilities and talents are not who I am. That was a tough lesson for me to learn because once I began to strip all of that away, I wasn't really sure who I was.  

But in the process, I learned that our identity is grounded in something much bigger than performance. Who we are is so much bigger than anything we can create or achieve because who we are stems from what He created and what He accomplished. 

"We are God's workmanship," created in His image to do the work He prepared for us. We are called by name by a Heavenly Father who delights in us and rejoices over us with singing. We are loved, forgiven, accepted, and equipped. We were redeemed by the precious blood of Christ and are part of His sovereign plan. We are beloved children of the King eternal.

I am a product of God's workmanship, not mine. No amount of failures or vulnerabilities or bad hair days can diminish the implications of that truth, and all of my achievements pale in comparison.

"Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun." -Ecclesiastes 2:11

"I know that everything God does will endure  forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it…" -Ecclesiastes 3:14a

Ephesians 2:10, Genesis 1:27, Isaiah 43, Zephaniah 3:17, 1 John 3:1, Romans 8:1, John 6:37, 2 Titus 3:17, 1 John 3:2