How curiosity, risk-taking, creativity, and even my failures were rewritten into a calling far bigger than myself.
“God weaves every thread—strong and frayed—into a story He’s been writing since before we knew our own.”
I’ve been reflecting on the strange, beautiful mix of gifts God embedded in me long before I understood who they were ultimately for. When I trace the thread back—through early days of self-taught programming at an MS-DOS C:> prompt, through risk-taking in business, photography, video editing, and a relentless curiosity for anything bleeding-edge—I can see now that He was shaping something in me even then.
But I didn’t know that at the time.
I thought the point was me.
So I used those gifts as fuel for achievement. Not in an overtly selfish way, but in the subtle, socially acceptable way our culture celebrates: strive harder, climb higher, produce more, become impressive. The world applauded that version of me, and I let it.
I lived as though worth could be earned. As though identity was something I had to construct.
John D. Rockefeller was once asked how much is enough. His answer:
“Just a little bit more.”
I never said that out loud—but my soul whispered it constantly.
Then there was Malcolm Forbes’ famous line:
“He who dies with the most toys wins.”
I didn’t believe it theologically, but I lived as though accumulation—of wins, influence, accomplishments—was the metric of a meaningful life.
Achievement became my validation.
Until it became my undoing.
Because no matter how much I built, it was never enough.
When God Steps Into the Story You Thought You Were Writing
Here’s the grace of it all:
God didn’t scrap the wiring He put in me.
He redeemed it.
He took my curiosity and turned it into creativity for His Kingdom.
He took my risk-taking nature and transformed it into obedience and courage.
He took my “quick start” personality—not always appreciated in boardrooms—and shaped it into availability: “Here I am, Lord. Send me.”
He triaged the wounded parts, the striving parts, the insecure parts…
and He began to craft a very different story than the one I was chasing.
A story where identity is not earned—it’s received.
A story where gifts are not platforms—they’re tools in the hands of the Master Craftsman.
A story where brokenness is not a setback—it’s the soil where grace grows.
The world taught me to build a résumé.
Jesus taught me to surrender a life.
His Workmanship, Not Mine
Scripture says:
“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”
— Ephesians 2:10
And again:
“Not that we are sufficient in ourselves… but our sufficiency is from God.”
— 2 Corinthians 3:5
My security no longer rests in achievement.
My worth no longer wavers with performance.
My identity no longer lives or dies at the hands of other people’s approval.
I am who God says I am—
chosen, loved, restored, sent.
Today, everything good in my story traces back to Him:
the gifts, the passions, the healed wounds, the creative spark, the courage to step forward, and the humility to step back.
I once built a life on achievement.
God is building something better—
a life anchored in Him, stewarded for His Kingdom, and shaped by His grace.
And that is more than enough.
A Question for You
What gifts, passions, or even broken places in your story might God be inviting you to surrender—so He can weave them into His greater purpose?
