Dearly Loved, Now and Forever

Hannah was slim and tall, with a fair and relatively good complexion. Her hair was always just the way she wanted it. Her career was on the rise—a senior brand consultant in an advertising agency. In her late 20s, she was already clinching million-dollar accounts. At church, she was a deaconess, overseeing the Christian education classes. She was, by nearly any standard, a picture of success. 

Yet, Hannah was insecure. 

She was afraid of making mistakes, shattering her carefully managed image, and exposing herself as a fake. She held herself to a high standard out of fear that people would not accept her otherwise. 

Maybe you know how Hannah feels. I do. Hannah is actually me—fifteen years ago.  

I’ve often wondered where my insecurities came from. Perhaps it’s middle-child syndrome, or perhaps, it has to do with my growing up years. Probably both. 

As a third child in a family of four, I didn’t get as much attention as my oldest and youngest sisters did—or so I felt.  And it didn’t help that the second child was the only boy in a traditional Chinese family, where males are often favored over females. 

Add to it that I am a twin. My sister is sanguine by nature; I, on the other hand, am more melancholic. When we were growing up, relatives and neighbors frequently compared us by our looks or our grades. My sister is definitely the smarter one, and an inch taller than me. 

So, perhaps, I have tried to compensate for my perceived lack by trying to be better. Better behaved. Striving to do better in sports and working harder at my studies. I was always trying to earn brownie points. 

I’ve always struggled with insecurity. Even after coming to faith in Christ, I still struggled. But now I have a different way of confronting my feelings. When I became a Christian at 15, and learned about my identity in Christ, it didn’t take away my insecurities completely. But it did help. 

My Identity in Christ

The first thing I learned that helped with my insecurity was that through faith in Christ, I was a child of God (John 1:12). As His child, I’m loved by God—not based on my looks, accomplishments, or behavior. God loves me as a perfect father would love his child—simply because the child is his. 

I love Romans 8:38–39. The assurance it gives takes my shaky insecurity and places it on solid ground: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

In other words, my identity as God’s dearly loved child is totally secure. Nothing can change that. Absolutely nothing. 

As God’s child, not only am I dearly loved, but my future is secure and certain. No matter what I did or didn’t do, I have a place in my Father’s house because I’m God’s child. I can look at my failures and say: I’m no less accepted by God; I’m God’s child because of Jesus. I’m not crushed. And I can look at my success and say: God doesn’t accept me more; I’m God’s child only because of Jesus. 

However, knowing something and truly experiencing its reality are quite different matters. It’s a journey that takes time. One that God will gladly walk with us to help us understand and appreciate the depth, width, breadth, and height of being a child of God. It’s a journey I’m still taking decades after first becoming God’s child.

Allowing That Identity to Sink In

Although I became a child of God as a teenager,  I was still grappling with this identity in my late 20s, allowing it to renew my mind and shape my emotions and behaviors. Now, in my 40s, that identity is still sinking in. 

There are days when I forget that I’m a child of God and my insecurities drive me to strive to do and be more. The telltale signs are rather obvious: I fret more, worried that I’m not doing enough. I get hurt, discouraged, or offended easily by people’s remarks. I’m hypersensitive. 

And there are days when I still listen to lies: “You’re not good enough!” “You should have been wiser.” “If only people knew who you really are, they’d think less of you.” I turn inward and forget that it’s not about me, but Christ doing His Work in me and through me at home, work, church, and wherever I am. 

Yet, in those moments, time and time again, God is good. Through spending time in His Word and prayer, or through a sermon or a song, a friend, or a social media post, God whispers to me: Hush. Be still. You are my child, and I love you.  

By His grace, God makes us His children. By His grace, He will help us to be rooted in that identity—dearly loved, now and forever. 

—Written by Poh Fang Chia. Used by permission from the author.