Begin with two minutes of silence and stillness before God.
How do you introduce yourself? When someone says, “Tell me about you,” what comes out first? Do you talk about your career or where you went to school? Do you mention your spouse, your children, or the roles you fill each day? What words do you choose to define who you are?
When I read Luke 20, I imagine how the scribes and chief priests would have introduced themselves. They would have spoken of their leadership positions and their authority over those seeking to follow God. They likely would have named the respected teachers under whom they studied to make sure everyone knew they were educated and qualified. You could see their status before they ever spoke — polished robes, prominent posture, carefully maintained reputation.
Jesus, however, was completely secure in His identity. When the scribes and chief priests questioned Him, He did not shrink back. While they plotted privately to trap Him, He walked publicly with both boldness and humility. He answered their questions with wisdom and authority. He didn’t need special garments to stand out. His words carried the weight of heaven. His confidence wasn’t rooted in appearance or position, but in who He was.
I want to lead for Jesus, but I never want to be known as a “religious leader.” I want to reflect the humility of Christ — not elevating myself above others but walking faithfully beside them. And yet, when I’ve been asked to introduce myself, I’ve often missed the mark. I’ve said I’m a wife, a mom, a banker, a missionary, a church leader, a college graduate. All of those things are true, but they don’t fully communicate where my identity rests.
Recently, a friend from Uganda shared that, in his country, if you are truly committed to Christ, you introduce yourself as a “born-again, practicing Christian.” That distinction matters. It separates genuine faith from cultural Christianity — much like the contrast we see in Luke 20 between Jesus and the religious leaders whose faith had been mixed with pride and power.
I want my identity to be rooted in something eternal — not in titles or temporary assignments, but in being a daughter of the King of Kings. That is my forever designation. The rest are simply roles I steward for a season.
Hi. I’m Stephanie. I’m a born-again, practicing believer.
Now, tell me about yourself.
Take two minutes to reflect in silence.
Prayer: Jesus, thank you for loving me and allowing my identity to be in You. I am evermore thankful for your grace to me and for allowing me to be known as a daughter of the King of Kings. I love you. AMEN.