“Father God, please guide me as I write this article based on Your Word. Help me to write this to glorify You, and let Your words bring clarity to those who seek You. May Your truth help people discern and embrace correct beliefs. I pray and seek everything in the name of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Hi there my Brothers and Sisters in Christ! When I reflect on who I am, I see nothing but a wretched sinner. I can’t escape the overwhelming sense that everyone around me, no matter their flaws or mistakes, is somehow better than me. Their sins seem so small, so trivial, compared to the mountain of guilt and shame I carry. I have sinned, over and over again, falling into the same traps, repeating the same mistakes. Each time, I feel the crushing weight of my failure, the despair of knowing that I have once again fallen short of what God has called me to be. The shame is unbearable, and yet, in the depths of my despair, I find myself doing the only thing I know how to do—I run back to God, like a beggar who has nothing left, desperate for even a crumb of His mercy.
I think of the parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15:4-7, where Jesus describes the shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep to find the one that is lost. I am that lost sheep. I have wandered so far from the safety of His fold, strayed into dangerous and sinful places, yet He comes looking for me, again and again. The shepherd doesn’t scold or punish the lost sheep; instead, He rejoices when He finds it and carries it home on His shoulders. This is how God treats me. Despite my repeated failures, He doesn’t turn His back on me. Instead, He seeks me out, He finds me in my lostness, and He brings me back into His embrace. Not because I deserve it—oh, I know how little I deserve it—but because His love is far greater than my sin.
Paul’s words in Romans 7:24-25 speak directly to my heart: “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” I am acutely aware of my wretchedness. I know that no amount of good deeds, no amount of striving on my part, can ever make me worthy. It is only through Jesus Christ that I am delivered, only through His sacrifice that I am saved.
I am totally undeserving of His grace. If I lived a million years, and did every good work imaginable, it would never be enough to earn His favor. But that’s the beauty of grace—it’s not something I can earn. It’s not something I deserve. It’s a gift, freely given, from a God who loves me more than I can comprehend. Like a beggar who knows he has no right to ask for anything, I grasp onto this grace with everything I have, knowing that without it, I have nothing. It is my only hope, my only lifeline.
I often find myself drawn to the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32. Like the prodigal, I have squandered the gifts that God has given me. I have turned away from Him, choosing my own path, chasing after things that only led to emptiness and despair. I have hit rock bottom, found myself in the mire of my own making, and realized that the only place I could turn was back to the Father I had rejected. And just like the prodigal, when I finally come to my senses and return to Him, I don’t find anger or condemnation. Instead, I find a Father who has been waiting for me all along, who runs to meet me, who embraces me, and who restores me. This is the nature of God’s love—undeserved, unearned, and yet, freely given.
But I know that this journey of returning to God, of being transformed by His grace, is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight. I am not instantly made perfect. I struggle, I fall, and I get up again. I sin, I repent, and I seek His forgiveness. And each time, God washes me clean, reminding me that my identity is not found in my sin, but in Him. It’s a daily battle, a daily choice to come back to Him, to allow Him to shape me into who He has called me to be.
When I say I am a Christian, I am not claiming to be righteous or blameless on my own. In fact, I know that I have no righteousness of my own. The accuser may point out my many sins, but he has no power over me because my sins have been taken up by Christ. Isaiah 1:18 speaks to this amazing truth: “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” This is the reality of what Christ has done for me. I am blameless not because of anything I have done, but because Christ took my place, bore my sins, and washed me clean with His blood.
And though He has every reason to cast me aside, He does not. Instead, He holds me close, He calls me His own, and He reminds me that I am loved. This is the miracle of grace—that God would look at someone as wretched as me and call me His child.
So when I declare that I am a Christian, I am not boasting of my own worthiness or goodness. I am simply acknowledging that without Christ, I am nothing. My identity, my hope, my very life is bound up in Him. I am a sinner saved by grace, a lost sheep found by a loving Shepherd, a prodigal welcomed home by a Father who never stopped loving me.
CHRISTIAN means “Without Christ, I Am Nothing.” This is who I am. This is my identity in Christ. I am not perfect, I am not sinless, but I am His, and that is enough.