And sometimes you just need to be your own witness. Because only you know where you come from and where you’re going, and what all the life in between has been. When it really comes down to it, only you can know who you really are and what you are made for. Of course, there will be times when others simply don’t believe you. It’s those times you just need to find the inner resources to say, “My testimony about myself is valid.”

The alternative is to let others define you. To let their narrative of where you’ve come from become your origin story. To let their vision of your future become the dominant prophetic voice. To let their summary of you become your life story.

Is dangerous business. Just ask your big toe. Even in a familiar environment, there can be uncomfortable surprises: There’s a dog bone in the middle of the floor. The coffee table is closer than you remember. A spider is camped out on the light switch.

If you’ve already navigated that space enough in the light, you can manage. An unfamiliar environment, however, is a whole different story. The smartest thing to do is to just not move at all. Stay still. Stay put. Wait til dawn.

Life is an unfamiliar environment. While your life might be relatively comfortable and familiar to you (after all, it’s the only life you’ve ever lived), it’s still not as brightly lit as you might like to think.

When the voices of condemnation have been silenced, it’s time to belt out a new song.

When the pointing fingers of shame have gone, the only thing left to do is to not invite them back and to fill our home with new and joyful friends.

A favorite opportunity for preacher speculation is the time Jesus wrote on the ground: An angry mob brings him a woman caught in adultery, wanting to stone her, because the Moses says so. They ask Jesus for his opinion because they want to catch him in a religious dispute.

Instead of engaging directly Jesus writes something on the ground, says “Let any of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at here,” and then writes on the ground again. To which the mob’s response is to walk away one at a time.

So what did Jesus actually write on the ground? The names of each person in the mob? Their individual sins? Jeremiah 17:13, followed by their names and sins? The word “forgiven”? Each guy’s honey-do list? (“You boys have a lot more productive things you could be doing right now!”)

Sometimes when someone asks a question, they aren’t really looking for an answer. Well, they are. It’s just that they’re looking for the right answer. For their answer. For the answer that serves their agenda.

To quote the best movie from one of the best franchises of all time:

It’s a trap!

Admiral Ackbar, Return of the Jedi

Never a tool.

Shame is a sword to be hammered into a shovel, a spear to be hammered into a pruning hook.

Shame is a shield to be forged into a platter, a helmet to be forged into a chalice.

Shame is the native tongue of the Accuser, a foreign language to the Father.

Life is draining. If you work hard, the hours of toil on your body and mind take even more out of you. If you’re in any sort of human services or healthcare or ministry, there is a different kind of depletion that happens on an emotional or soul level.

Whatever kind of work you do, where do you go to recharge? To rest? To be refreshed? To be re-created? Where do you go to be refilled so that you can head back out again the next day with something to give to the world?

Where you’re from is probably not somewhere impressive. Most people come from Nowhereville. Not everyone can come from Shinymont. And as we all know, the only thing produced in Nowhereville is nothingmuch. There are often other people ready to point that out, as if it’s some sort of life-long handicap, probably because they, too, are from Nowhereville but are trying to convince themselves and everyone else that they’re from Somewhereboro.

Where you’re from isn’t as important as where you’re going.

As a kid, I loved swimming. I mean, really loved it. Anywhere I could, any chance I got. There was, and still is, something so freeing about the weightlessness of water as it completely enveloped my body.

But as excited as I was to swim, I couldn’t just jump right in. I had to test the water. Usually several times. First a toe. Then a whole foot. Then both feet. Then I’d go in up to my ankles, then my knees, then my waist. And then there came the moment when I knew the only thing left was to plunge my whole body under. So I’d take a few quick breaths, dive under, and before I knew it I was acclimated to the temperature. Let the fun begin!

I’d have to test the water like that because I was afraid it was too cold. And you know what? I was often right. It was too cold. The water was going to come into shocking contrast with my own body temperature. So I took it slow. Testing the water never increased the temperature of the water, but it did increase my nerve.

Know better than the common folk. The authorities are the experts while the crowd is deceived. The supposedly enlightened rulers are blessed while the mob is cursed.

At least that’s the general thinking, often in the minds of both parties. This is a power dynamic as old as time.

The good news, of course, is that this simply isn’t true. In God’s great design, the most essential and fundamental truths of the universe can be understood by anyone. And the great subversiveness of his kingdom is that it’s often the poor, the simple, the uneducated, the powerless, the disenfranchised, and the humble who see most clearly.