The Danger Of Thinking “Your Doing Fine”

What happens inside you when you pause long enough to ask the hardest question of all: Who am I really?

Not who people think I am. Not the version I comfortably present. Not the productive leader, the Christian writer, the husband, the dad, or the guy who can talk about legacy and finishing well. I mean the me I see when the noise goes away.

I don’t usually question who I am, but sometimes I do. I catch myself wondering if my knowledge and experience ever trick me into thinking I’m better than I am.

I don’t fear a scandal taking me down. I fear something slower. Something quieter. A drift. An erosion. The kind you don’t notice until you’re miles from where you started.

That thought unsettles me a bit. Because I genuinely love talking about legacy and finishing well and drawing lines. Those ideas really do stir something noble inside me. But the deeper question rises: Do I practice them? Or do I love the idea of change more than the actual obedience of it?

Sometimes I wonder if I’m obsessed with the image of transformation while avoiding the small choices that produce real transformation.

Do I write about repentance while assuming my words count as obedience? Do I say I have a good marriage but ignore low-grade resentment? Do I acknowledge the pain I’ve caused others, or do I assume I’ve already graduated from that lesson?

I’ve lived long enough to know that spiritual activity is not the same as spiritual obedience. Productivity is not the same as surrender. Do I use “God content” as a substitute for God conviction.

As I write devotions, do I skip the verse that actually convicts me? As I talk about finishing well, do I let myself believe I already have?

Do I confuse clarity with maturity? Do I teach truths I’m not currently obeying? Have I used generosity or spiritual talk to cover over places in me that still need to surrender?

Above all, am I keeping myself just busy enough to feel productive and just reflective enough to feel spiritual, yet never surrendered enough to be changed?

I hope I’m on the right track. I think I’m on track. I hope my motives are pure. I hope I grow. I hope I keep drawing closer to Jesus. I hope I listen to the Holy Spirit more than I listen to the noise around me.

And more than all of that, I hope I love God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. I hope I desire Him more than the things He gives.

“People look at the outside of a person, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7 NCV) This I know …

When I question my own motives, Scripture always pulls me back. “Search me, God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any bad thing in me. Lead me on the road to everlasting life.” (Psalm 139:23–24 NCV)

Here’s the good news for both you and me. Jesus didn’t give His life for the cleaned-up version of who I pretend to be. He died for the real me. The sinner. The drifter. The man who wanders more than he realizes. The one who falls short again and again.

“While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8 NCV)

His life, His death, and His resurrection paid for every one of my sins. He redeemed me. He rescued me. He heals the places I hide. He fills the cracks I pretend I don’t have. He makes me whole when I feel fractured. And He keeps reaching for me even when I drift away.

So maybe the most important question is not “Who am I?” but “Who is Jesus to me right now?” Because who I am changes. But who He is never does.

LORD, protect me from hiding, from distractions, and from pride. Protect me from thinking I’m better than I am. Help me remember my sins and remember how Jesus loved me and paid for them all. I’m grateful beyond words. IJNIP amen ♥️