Chasing Significance: Resting in Christ
A Quiet Beginning
I am sitting in my quiet-time chair with our new puppy, all eight pounds of her snuggled beside me as I write. Sunlight streams into the living room from behind my chair, and the American flag on the front porch snaps in the wind. This is my favorite spot in our new military rental. Surrounded by familiar furniture and steady daylight, my heart finds comfort in a new place.
I enjoy making a home, but what makes me feel most established is connection.
When Routine Feels Unsteady
As a military spouse, routine is fluid. Just last year alone, our family moved twice. After our most recent move from South Carolina to Tennessee at the end of December, I tried to reconnect with my usual communities at our new installation. But this time felt different. I didn’t feel at peace about rejoining the same activities or ministries. It was as if the Lord was gently closing doors I would normally walk through to build friendships.
Wrestling with Transition
I felt myself slipping into a discouraging place, not adapting as easily as I had in the past. Part of that struggle came from leaving behind people who knew me—and whom I knew. Letting go of any ownership in ministry roles I once held was harder than I expected.
This season required me to fall under new leadership, new expectations, and to yield to whatever the Lord had—or didn’t have—for me.
If I’m honest, at the heart of it, the struggle came down to pride and a longing for significance.
The Question of Significance
Significance is a curious thing. By definition, it is the state or quality of being important. Yet it is so easy to let the world define significance through career, family, achievements, or possessions.
In 2002, Pastor Rick Warren published The Purpose Driven Life, a book that resonated deeply with millions. It asks three simple but profound questions:
Why am I alive?
Does my life matter?
What is my purpose?
These questions reveal a universal longing. We are all searching for significance.
Losing and Reorienting
With the constant changes in my life, I realized I needed to reorient myself toward my Maker once again. Pride, insecurity, and the Enemy’s lies had convinced me I was insignificant. I found myself questioning my purpose in this new place.
True Significance
Thankfully, God defines significance very differently than the world does. Our worth is not based on what we do or the roles we fill, but on whose we are.
From the beginning, humanity was created in the image of God—both male and female. We are set apart in creation, given free will, and designed with body, soul, and spirit, reflecting the Triune God. Even the breath God gave Adam signifies more than life—it points to the soul itself.
Our significance begins with our Creator.
Chosen and Created with Purpose
Not only did God create us, but He loves us and brings us into His family as His children. Scripture reminds us:
“For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption to sonship[b] through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will …” (Ephesians 1:4-5, NIV).
Forming us with purpose.
“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10, NIV)
The Greek word for “handiwork” is poiēma, meaning something crafted, a work of art. We are His masterpiece, uniquely designed and deeply valued. Each of us has been given meaningful, God-ordained work to walk in.
Rediscovering Identity
Through these truths, I found myself reoriented. My sense of significance began to return—not rooted in roles or recognition, but in identity:
His child.
His beloved.
God created me in His image. He loves me. He has prepared good works for me in this season.
And that is enough.
Serving our home through motherhood and our community through small, quiet acts of care, I am learning to embrace this slower rhythm. Back in my quiet-time chair, with sunlight at my back and a puppy at my side, I’m reminded that significance isn’t something I have to chase. It’s something I’ve already been given.