Returning to Ourselves

One of the things that has always been important to me as a pastor is helping people rethink what we mean when we talk about sin. Too often, we point to selfishness, unkindness, or specific harmful actions and label those as "sin." And they might be. They may well be broken or painful or hurtful. But sometimes our focus gets misplaced.

We fixate on the symptoms instead of exploring the root cause.

And at the root? It's often that we don't know ourselves well. We don't see ourselves clearly. We don't recognize who we are in God's eyes. When we forget that we are beloved children of God, we act out. In fear, in anxiety, in ways that wound others and ourselves. So if we want to address what's broken, we don’t start by trying to stop sin. We begin by learning to see ourselves as we truly are.

The Story Beneath the Story

This is something Jesus teaches with subtle brilliance in the parable of the prodigal son. It's easy to read that story as one about bad choices and eventual repentance. But there's a phrase tucked in the narrative that holds a deeper truth.

When the younger son reaches his lowest point, our English translations often say, "he came to his senses." But the Greek text says something different. It says, "he came back to himself."

What an image.

It's not that he suddenly got smarter or more strategic. He remembered who he was. And that remembrance—that return to his true self—was what allowed him to move forward differently. It's a moment of deep spiritual clarity. He doesn't change because he's shamed into better behavior. He changes because he remembers his inherent worth.

Not Shame, but Self-Compassion

So often, when we mess up, we think the solution is to be harder on ourselves. We spiral, we self-criticize, we try to whip ourselves into shape. But the gospel invites something gentler and more profound.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do in our worst moments is to stop, pause, and remember: this is not who I am.

Jesus keeps pointing us back to this deeper truth. That we are loved. That we belong. That we are not our worst moments. And when we begin to believe that—not just intellectually but in our bones—that changes everything.

The Real Path to Transformation

Berating yourself as a sinner won’t make you more kind.

But knowing you are loved, right now, as you are? That will make you less defensive.

Being angry at your own greed won’t make you more generous.

But learning to trust that you are held by God, that you have enough, that you are enough? That will begin to loosen your grip on your anxieties.

It all starts with coming back to yourself.

Before better choices, before wiser plans, before healing or transformation—there is this sacred return to who we are in God.

What About You?

Have you ever had a moment like that? Where things began to change not because you tried harder, but because you saw yourself differently? Because you remembered that you are beloved?

If so, I’d love to hear about it. Let’s keep learning from each other as we keep returning to ourselves.