Our value was set by a Savior who declared, “While you’re yet a sinner, I will come and die for you.” You’re valuable because I made you, I love you, and I came for you.
This Value-First identity changes the entire nature of our work. It transforms it from earning to love. Marketplace skills become missionary skills. It’s easy to get your worth as a human tied up in how well you perform or produce, isn’t it? You get accolades from your boss on a big report, or maybe you blow your quarterly sales quota out of the water. It’s not just that you did good work; it gets all tied up with your identity and how you see yourself. Those little voices in your head start cheering, “You’re a winner!”
The same is true when we blow it, though, isn’t it? When your department underperforms or you stumble over your words in a big presentation, it’s not just that you could have done better work—it feels like those internal voices are telling you that you’re worthless, a pretender. It becomes an assault on who you are, not just what you did.
In the world we live in, especially in Western meritocracies, our performance precedes our value—not just as employees, but as human beings.
Would you permit me to “dad-brag” for a moment? As I record this, we’re preparing to head to Taylor University to see my son perform as the lead in the university’s spring musical. They’re doing Newsies this year, and Austin landed the lead role of Jack Kelly, the charismatic, brash leader of the Newsies strike of 1899. It’s a big role with a lot of high-energy acting, singing, and dancing. I can’t wait to see him.
As a literal performer—and I have a background in music myself—I know how much of your identity gets intertwined with performance. It’s nearly impossible to separate the two. How you perform doesn’t just determine how good the show is; it feels like it determines who you are.
So I did what I’ve done a number of times before. I reached out to my son before his big performance to remind him of who he is—that he is loved, valued, cherished, and that his mom and I are so proud of him. His identity is settled and established before he ever takes the stage. The order of this reality is vital. He is not loved, valued, or cherished because he performs well—he is loved, valued, and cherished no matter how he performs. His earthly father sees him that way, and more importantly, his heavenly Father does too.
What does that do? It changes everything. If your identity is settled and your eternal value is secure, you don’t perform to earn those things. You perform from a place of rest in your Father’s love. Your performance then becomes an opportunity to lavish love on others, not a wage you pay yourself. It means you’re actually free.
If this is true of imperfect human fathers, imagine what the perfect love of your heavenly Father can do. Our value to God is not determined by our performance. Our identity is not rooted in our ability to stick the landing. Our value is found in the finished work of Jesus.
Our value was set by a Savior who declared, “While you’re yet a sinner, I will come and die for you.” Not because you finally get it right, perform up to expectations, or earn my love and admiration, but because I gave it to you first. You’re valuable because I made you, I love you, and I came for you.
This Value-First identity changes the entire nature of our work. It transforms it from earning to love. Our obedience and performance rise out of the finished work of Christ. That not only raises the quality of our performance, but it resurrects the purpose of it.
Jesus and the gospel change everything. So when you go to work this week, let Jesus’ finished work fuel all your work. Your human boss may not see it that way, but your heavenly Father does. Your performance will actually improve when you detach it from your identity. Your work isn’t your wage—the wages were paid. Now your work is a daily opportunity to honor and worship God, to love your neighbor, and to point people to Jesus.
You are loved before you perform. Let that truth fuel you this week.
