I don’t think He wants to “use” me, anyway.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Eph. 2:10 NIV)

Ah, aging.

The loss of hearing. Deteriorating vision. The pain in my back, hips, knees, ankles, and heels when I wake up in the morning. I thought sleep was supposed to make you feel refreshed, not broken.

I limped out of bed one morning, my ankles feeling like they might snap in half if I bore too much weight on them, and slowly shuffled my way to the kitchen, where my wife and sons were already in the middle of their morning routines.

My 8-year-old ran up to greet me with a hug and a hearty “Good morning, Daddy!”

I started to stoop over to receive him, but my back hurt, too. I flinched upright to relieve the pressure, apologizing to my son for not doing a very good job hugging him back. “I’m sorry. My back and legs hurt, so I need to just stand here for a little bit.”

“I can help you,” he replied without skipping a beat. Immediately, I felt the snug warmth of my baby boy’s embrace tightening around my waist as he attempted to help carry me.

I can’t describe the delight I felt as a father at that moment. How sweet of this child, who is maybe one-fifth my size, to want to help his old man this way. I knew he couldn’t actually help me walk, but I adored his heart and his expression of affection for me.

God spoke to me through my son that day: “Yeah, you can’t really help Me, either, but I feel the same way about you.”

That’s when I got it. In an instant, I understood.

None of my “accomplishments” in ministry over the past 12 years impresses God. Not the work I did as a pastor or as a missionary—He is the One who made the work possible. Not the prayers I’ve uttered over the years—He is the One who answered those prayers.

Nothing I’ve done in ministry impresses God because I could never have done them without Him in the first place.

He has been the One at work all along, and I just got to tag along with Him.

Yes, Ephesians 2:10 says that we were created to do good works, but it also says that these works were prepared in advance for us to do. The original Greek words translated here as “to do” is more closely translated as “to walk in.” The ESV translates this verse as “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”

God prepared good works for us to do before He created us—His workmanship, expertly crafted by His hands—and we are to step into these works that have already been established ahead of us. I think of an escalator that is already moving: we just have to step onto it. I’d be a fool to think that an escalator moves because of my efforts, or my presence, or my “gifting.”

I’m just going along for a ride.

No longer being a pastor or a missionary caused me deep pain, especially during the first six months of my transition, but over time, I began to see why: I was finding too much significance in the things I had done in ministry, so when I stopped doing them, my sense of identity was rocked. Under this paradigm, what I do equals who I am, so not doing anymore led to an existential crisis.

I was proud that God had used me all these years, and I wanted to continue being useful—until I started to question this whole “used by God” thing.

Does the Bible say that God wants to “use” His people?

It sounds a bit odd to me. As an earthly father, I wouldn’t want to use or exploit my kids. (Well, except when my feet hurt and I need them to go fetch something from another room for me.)

Let’s say that I need to install a new light fixture on the ceiling. Would I “need” my young children to do the job—to go grab a ladder and some power tools, climb the ladder, and start futzing with electrical wires? Would I make them do it because I want to “use” them “for my glory?” No, but I’d love for them to spend time with me while I did the lion’s share of the work. I’d ask them to participate by handing me different tools, reading instructions for me, and doing other things that wouldn’t put them in harm’s way.

It’s not about me needing help. It’s about spending time with my beloved children.

It’s not about “using” my children to get things done. It’s about passing wisdom to my kids and seeing them learn and grow through these experiences.

Perhaps the notion of being “used by God” is so popular because it makes us feel good about ourselves: we feel useful; therefore, we matter in the grand scheme of the universe. Being “used by God” is more about us than it is about God.

Ultimately, it comes down to pride. And we know how God feels about that.

This is the conclusion to my testimony. After 12 years of amazing adventures following Jesus, I sit here with no formal ministry roles, no ministry titles. I‘m a civilian again, learning to live in the world like everybody else.

And in the midst of it all, God keeps asking me, “Am I enough for You? Can you find contentment in Me and not in things that make you feel important?”

I’m learning. It hasn‘t always been easy, but I’m grateful that God continues to work on me, patiently whittling away the parts that don‘t conform to the image of Christ. “God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness” (Heb 12:10 NIV).

I don’t want to be “used by God” anymore. I don’t think He ever wanted to “use” any of us to begin with.

Instead, I want to be with our heavenly Father, embracing Him with the zeal of an 8-year-old child, eager to help not because I am capable, but because I am loved.

“Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.“ (Gal 4:6–7 NIV)