I Am Becoming Who I Am

As a Christian, I am a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). The old Michael has been crucified with Christ, and I have been reborn into God's family. I am now a son of God, as righteous as Jesus, and this is a reality because of what He accomplished on my behalf. My righteousness is not based on my own efforts; it is grounded solely in my faith in the work Jesus did for me. I may not fully understand how God does this, but I stand firm in the truth of it.

I don’t always embody the values or the spirit of being a son of God. There are moments when I struggle to fully embrace my identity as a child of God, and this disconnect can be disheartening. Looking back to my teenage years, I vividly recall believing that God’s anger was directed at me every time I stumbled or sinned. Each misstep felt like a personal disappointment to Him, as if I constantly fell short of the expectations imposed on me—whether they were the divine standards I was taught or the ideals I believed I needed to uphold. This mindset often left me feeling isolated and burdened, overshadowing the grace and love that I now understand are fundamental to my faith.

During that tumultuous period of my life, I found myself “getting saved” every Sunday, desperately seeking redemption because I couldn’t seem to get my act together. Each week, I attended services, filled with hope and determination, yet I felt an overwhelming sense of failure. I longed to please God, but despite my fervent efforts, I always sensed that I fell short of His expectations.

In my heart, I believed He must be disappointed in me for not being able to live up to the ideals I held so dear. I made countless promises during those emotional moments of prayer—vowing to try harder, to resist temptation, and to finally get it right next time. Each commitment was made with genuine intentions but often faltered as I returned to my struggles, leaving me feeling lost and unworthy.

I carried those persistent thoughts and complex feelings into my adulthood like a weight on my shoulders. Each time I stumbled or made a mistake, I would engage in relentless self-criticism, replaying my shortcomings in my mind for days on end. I would often find myself pledging to God that I would do better, vowing to put in more effort to avoid the sting of failure in the future. It felt as though I was perpetually running on a performance treadmill, convinced that if I just pushed myself a little harder and strived for excellence, I might finally earn His approval. Yet, no matter how much I exerted myself, it became painfully clear that my efforts would never be sufficient; I was trapped in a cycle where nothing ever seemed good enough to quiet the voice of doubt within.

When I became a parent at 28, everything began to change for me. Experiencing parenthood allowed me to grasp the fatherly heart of God more deeply than I had ever imagined. The love and devotion I felt for my daughter were profound and beyond description. I would gladly lay down my life for this precious child. Nothing she did—or didn't do—would ever alter the way I felt about her. Even now, with her being 26 and married, those feelings remain unchanged. My love extends to all five of my children in that same vein. No matter what they do, or don’t do, my love will never change for them.

While my love for my kids runs deep, I know it pales in comparison to God's love for us. For many years, I believed that whenever I sinned, God was punishing me. I thought that the hardships in my life were the result of God's wrath for my failures. I struggled to imagine God being proud of me because all I could focus on were my mistakes. I believed He loved me—after all, God is love—but I didn't believe He actually liked me.

Eventually, I had to grapple with an important question: If God was punishing me for my sins, then why did Jesus take my place? The core of the issue lay in my misunderstanding of my true identity. I still viewed myself primarily as a sinner who had been saved by grace, but only as if on “parole.” Each time I stumbled, I felt like I was being sent back to “sin jail.” I didn't realize that I was completely free from sin. My focus was more on the term “sinner” rather than on “grace” or “saved.”

I grew up believing that God hated sin, which led me to think that God must hate me because I couldn’t stop sinning. Thankfully, I came to realize how mistaken that belief was. My issue wasn’t about sin—it was about my identity.

I am not a sinner; I am a son of God. I was created in His image, and because of Jesus, I can understand how deeply I am loved by God. I am not merely a sinner saved by grace; I am a son of God, cherished deeply by my Father.

This means that whenever I stumble, God reminds me, “Son, that’s not who you are.” I may feel like a failure at times, but God sees me as His beloved son. He consistently speaks to the identity He has placed within me—calling me by my true name. He doesn’t define me by my flaws; instead, He addresses the “Israel” within me, not the “Jacob.” While He may deal with my shortcomings, He always speaks to my true identity.

If my children ever spoke to themselves the way I used to, it would break my heart. I would never allow them to feel unworthy of my love or view themselves as failures. Instead, I would empower them to understand their true identity. I would remind them of who they are: my children, made in God’s image, brimming with potential and deserving of love. I would encourage them to embrace their true worth, regardless of their actions.

No matter their choices or actions, they will always be my children, and my love for them is unwavering. It’s not contingent on what they do; that wouldn’t be love—it would be a mere transaction. True love is unconditional and powerful.

I am committed to helping them discover and embrace their true selves. This is precisely what God does for us. He proclaims our true identity, reminding us that we belong to Him. When I listen to His words and accept them, I start to live as my authentic self.

I am a son of God! And even when my behavior strays, He gently reminds me of my true identity.

I am evolving into who I already am.

Do you have a similar story? If so, I would love to hear about it. Share it with me at michael@michaelwilson.org.