Several years ago, a friend asked me to go with her to an outdoor worship night at a church I had never attended.
I like to sit near the front at things like that because if I don’t, I get distracted watching what everyone in front of me is doing. So my friend and I marched right up to the front row and sat down.
I didn’t know anybody. I didn’t know the church. And apparently, I also didn’t know that people at this particular church did not worship quite the way I did.
After the service, a woman walked up to me and asked, “Who are you?”
I thought that was a little odd—and maybe a little rude—but I told her my name.
“No,” she said. “Who are you?”
Still rude.
So I told her about my family and some of the things I was involved in at my church.
“NO! WHO ARE YOU?!”
At this point I was completely confused, so I finally said, “I am a daughter of the King!”
She rolled her eyes so far back I thought they might get stuck.
It turned out she was the senior pastor’s wife, and what she really wanted to know was why this stranger had marched to the front of their worship service, stood up, and thrown her hands in the air.
Nobody did that there.
I had no idea.
There wasn’t anybody in front of me to watch.
But I’ve thought about her question many times since then.
Who are you?
We have all kinds of ways of answering that question.
We build our identities around our families, our jobs, our accomplishments, our relationships, our reputations, our appearance—even our failures. And the problem is that every one of those things can change.
So what happens when something you used to define yourself disappears?
What happens when you fail?
When people leave?
When the thing you thought you would be good at turns out differently than you expected?
Who are you then?
Gideon Had an Answer
When we meet Gideon in Judges 6, Israel has been terrorized by the Midianites for seven years. They would wait until Israel’s crops were ready and then sweep in, taking the food and livestock and devastating the land.
Israel was afraid.
And Gideon was hiding.
He was threshing wheat in a winepress—something that made very little sense. Wheat was normally threshed in the open where the wind could carry away the chaff. A winepress was a hole in the ground.
But Gideon wasn’t trying to be efficient.
He was trying not to be seen.
And that is where the angel of the LORD found him.
“The LORD is with you, mighty warrior.”
— Judges 6:12
Mighty warrior?
Gideon was hiding in a hole.
He certainly didn’t see himself that way.
In fact, Gideon immediately began explaining why this couldn’t possibly be right. If God was really with Israel, why had all of this happened? Where were all the miracles their ancestors had talked about?
And when God told Gideon that He was sending him to rescue Israel, Gideon had another objection.
How could he possibly save Israel?
His clan was weak.
He was the least in his family.
Gideon saw himself through his fear.
God saw something Gideon couldn’t see yet.
But notice God’s answer.
He doesn’t give Gideon a motivational speech.
He doesn’t tell him to dig deep and discover how strong he really is.
He says:
“I will be with you.”
That changes everything.
God Called Him Before He Was Brave
One of my favorite things about Gideon’s story is that God calls him “mighty warrior” before Gideon ever does anything mighty.
Before the army.
Before the battle.
Before the victory.
Before Gideon even stops being afraid.
God’s calling wasn’t based on Gideon’s résumé. It wasn’t based on what Gideon had already accomplished.
And Gideon’s ability to do what God called him to do wasn’t ultimately going to depend upon Gideon’s strength.
It depended upon the presence of God.
That matters for us, too.
Our identity is not ultimately defined by what we have done, what other people say about us, or even what we happen to feel about ourselves on a particular day.
For those who are in Christ, Scripture gives us a different place to begin.
We are new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17).
We are God’s people, called out of darkness and into His light (1 Peter 2:9).
We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for the good works He has prepared for us (Ephesians 2:10).
Before asking, What can I accomplish? maybe we need to remember whose we are.
Obedience While You’re Still Afraid
Then God gives Gideon something to do.
And it isn’t leading an army.
Not yet.
First, God tells him to tear down his father’s altar to Baal and the Asherah pole beside it.
So Gideon does.
At night.
Because he’s afraid.
I love that detail.
Gideon didn’t suddenly become fearless because God called him a mighty warrior.
He obeyed while he was still afraid.
Sometimes we imagine faithfulness as reaching a place where we’re finally confident enough, brave enough, knowledgeable enough, or spiritually mature enough to do whatever God has put in front of us.
Gideon’s story looks different.
His obedience began with one frightened step.
And then another.
He didn’t begin by leading an army.
He began by obeying God in his own backyard.
Maybe that’s where purpose usually begins.
Not with knowing the entire plan.
Not with seeing exactly where God is taking us.
Just with doing the next thing He has put in front of us.
Telling the truth.
Serving someone.
Forgiving.
Standing for what is right.
Opening Scripture.
Praying.
Taking one small step of obedience when we’d really rather stay hidden in the winepress.
Bigger Than Gideon
Eventually Gideon does lead Israel into battle.
But even then, God makes sure Gideon understands where the victory will come from.
Gideon begins with an army of 32,000 men.
God reduces it to 300.
Because this was never going to be a story about how impressive Gideon was.
It was going to be a story about God.
God’s calling was bigger than Gideon’s ability because God’s power—not Gideon’s—would accomplish it.
Maybe that’s the part we need to remember when God puts something in front of us that feels bigger than we are.
We may very well be right.
Maybe it is bigger than us.
Gideon wasn’t wrong when he recognized his weakness.
He was wrong when he assumed his weakness meant God couldn’t use him.
God’s answer was never, “Gideon, you’re stronger than you think.”
His answer was:
“I will be with you.”
So, Who Are You?
Maybe you’re in a season where you don’t recognize yourself.
Maybe something you used to build your identity around is gone.
Maybe you’re looking at what God has put in front of you and thinking, Surely He has the wrong person.
Maybe you’re still hiding in the winepress.
Gideon’s story reminds us that God meets people there.
He calls us to trust what He says more than what fear says.
And then He asks us to take the next step.
You don’t have to see the whole road.
Gideon didn’t.
You don’t have to become fearless first.
Gideon didn’t.
And you don’t have to manufacture enough strength to accomplish whatever God asks of you.
Gideon couldn’t.
You need the same thing Gideon needed:
“I will be with you.”
So maybe the question isn’t only:
Who am I?
Maybe the better question is:
Who does God say I am—and do I trust Him enough to live like I believe Him?
The Table 