Jesus told a story to some people who thought they were better than others and who looked down on everyone else: "Two men went into the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood over by himself and prayed, 'God, I thank you that I am not greedy or dishonest or unfaithful in marriage like other people. And I am really glad that I am not like that tax collector over there. I go without eating for two days a week, and I give you one tenth of all I earn.' The tax collector stood off at a distance and did not even dare to look up toward heaven. He beat on his chest and prayed, 'God, have pity on me! I am such a sinner.' Then Jesus said, 'When the two men went home, it was the tax collector and not the Pharisee who was pleasing to God. If you put yourself above others, you will be put down. But if you humble yourself, you will be honored.'" —Luke 18:9-14 (CEV)
I grew up learning how to protect myself. In Junior High, I was an overweight nerd. I still remember the jocks in my class shooting spit-wads at me and giving me the mean nickname "Armadillo." It hurt, and it made me feel like I wanted to disappear. I decided back then that I never wanted to feel that way again.
To keep that from happening, I started building armor. I used my jobs and my titles as shields to keep people from disrespecting me. I thought that if I was "in charge," I would finally be safe. Whether I was a soldier in the Army or a charge nurse in the ER, I used my authority to make sure I wasn't that bullied kid anymore.
I even felt this while traveling to Kenya as a pastor. In that culture, people often put American pastors on a pedestal. They treat you with so much respect that it can be easy to start believing you really are as important as they say. But inside, I felt like a fraud. I met a local pastor there who traveled into South Sudan to share about Jesus. He couldn't carry a Bible because he might be jailed or killed, so he memorized the words instead. Seeing his real, deep faith made my "pedestal" feel like a wall between me and God.
In the story Jesus told, the Pharisee was a lot like me. He stood at the front and talked about how good he was. He was using his religious rules like armor to look perfect. But the tax collector stood in the back and just admitted he was a mess. Jesus said it was the honest man, not the man in the front, who was actually pleasing to God.
I finally let my armor fall at an altar in April 2025. I stopped trying to be the "Charge Nurse" or the "Successful Leader." I surrendered my titles and my future to God. In that moment, He gave me a vision for a table instead of a pedestal. He showed me ConnectDinners—a place where nobody has to be "in charge" or wear armor to be loved. The door to God’s heart isn't opened by how well we follow rules; it’s opened when we are finally brave enough to be real.
Identify one "image" you are tired of carrying this week. Try letting it go for just one day and see how much lighter you feel.
Text Pastor Vic at 509-919-1897 if you’re tired of the act and just need someone to walk in the shadows with you.
Reflection & Prayer
Think about a part of your life where you feel you have to act perfect to be accepted. What would it feel like to be loved just as you are, without any of your accomplishments?
Lord, I am tired of trying to look like I have it all together. I am stepping down from my pedestal today and asking for Your grace. Help me...