Chosen: Moving from “Becoming” to “Being”

Growing up, I hated when they made us line up in gym so two captains could choose their teams. I can still feel that sick heaviness in my stomach as I stood there, pretending not to care, wondering if I would be chosen or quietly passed over.

Looking back, I realize I didn’t leave that feeling in the gym. I carried it with me—into friendships, church, work, and even into my walk with G‑d. I spent so much of my life trying to “be” someone who would fit. Someone who would be chosen.

Somewhere along the way, that performance mindset wrapped itself around my faith. I came to think of Christianity mostly as an invitation to “be more like Jesus.” That sounded holy, so I didn’t question it. But in practice, it often looked like trying to erase parts of how G‑d made me—taming my personality, denying my dreams, editing myself down so maybe, just maybe, I would finally feel worthy.

Underneath it all was this quiet fear:

“If I were different, more spiritual, less needy, less much… then I would really belong.”

Waking up at 4 a.m.

Last night, the Holy Spirit woke me up at four in the morning. I couldn’t shake this question: How do I align my life with His purpose instead of constantly chasing my own?

As I sat there in the dark, journal open, I had a sudden realization:

I have misunderstood what it means to follow Jesus.

I’ve spent so much energy on becoming—trying to become the right kind of believer—that I’ve missed something simple and profound: in Christ, I am invited to rest in being who He already says I am.

Not becoming someone worthy of love.

Being someone already loved.

Being the person G‑d intentionally created, in this body, in this story, in this moment.

Ephesians 2:10 (NRSVUE) says:

“For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which G‑d prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

This verse doesn’t ask me to build a shinier version of myself. It declares that I am G‑d’s handiwork. The “good works” are not a performance project to prove my value; they’re simply the natural expression of who I already am in Christ, lived out as my “way of life.”

Chosen, then invited to live as His

Another verse that keeps echoing in my heart is 1 Peter 2:9 (NRSVUE):

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, G‑d’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.”

Notice the order:

• You are chosen.

• You are G‑d’s own people.

• In order that you may proclaim His mighty acts.

Identity comes first. Expression flows from that identity.

We are chosen so that we may proclaim. We are loved so that our lives can reflect that love. The “proclaiming” isn’t a task list to earn a place; it’s what naturally begins to happen as we live rooted in being G‑d’s own.

The identity trap

When I think about my own story, I see an “identity trap” I’ve fallen into over and over:

• Trying to secure my worth by being the “right kind” of Christian woman

• Measuring myself against other people’s expectations

• Hushing my dreams and desires because they felt “too much” or “not spiritual enough”

• Treating my personality and story as problems to fix rather than gifts to offer

For women living with chronic illness, this trap can feel even tighter. We can start to believe that our value lies in how much we can push through or how consistently we can “show up,” or, on the other side, that our sickness is the most important thing about us.

But in Christ, illness doesn’t define us.

Success doesn’t define us. Our roles don’t define us. We are defined by the One who calls us His own and invites us to be His daughters in the middle of our actual circumstances.

Shifting from “becoming” to “being”

That 4 a.m. journal moment shifted the question for me.

Instead of endlessly circling around:

• Who am I?

• Am I enough yet?

• Am I doing this Christian thing “right”?

I sensed an invitation toward a gentler, truer question:

• What does it mean to simply be who G‑d created me to be, today, in union with Christ?

When I look at Jesus’s life, I see someone completely secure in His relationship with the Father—so secure that everything He did flowed out of that secure being. He didn’t scramble to prove Himself. He rested in who He was and then lived out that identity through love, obedience, compassion, teaching, healing, and sacrifice.

He listened.

He trusted.

He rested.

He responded.

What if I stopped trying to fix who I am and instead received who I am—my limitations, my gifts, my story, my health, my personality—as something G‑d can inhabit? What if the point isn’t to finally “become someone worthy,” but to trust that, in Christ, I am already beloved and then lean into being that beloved one in each moment?

This isn’t passivity. It’s alignment. As we rest in who we are in Him, our choices, rhythms, and relationships begin to shift—not out of panic or performance, but out of a quieter, truer center.

A gentle invitation for you

If any part of this stirs something in you—if you’ve ever felt like the girl standing in the gym line, hoping to be picked—consider this your invitation to step closer.

Not to try harder.

Not to become someone else.

But to ask G‑d what it might look like, in your real season, to live as already chosen and already His.

Journaling prompt

Take a few quiet minutes with your journal and ask G‑d to meet you there:

Where have I been trying to be chosen, and how is G‑d inviting me to live as already chosen?

Let your words be honest. You don’t have to tidy them up for Him. He already knows the gym lines you still carry inside—and He delights to remind you: in Christ, you are already chosen, already loved, already His.