Do Any of You Struggle with Identifying as a Victim?
A more subtle identity crisis occurs when we allow pain to define us—when we identify as victims rather than victors in Christ.
Maybe you’ve endured devastating trauma that you can’t forget. The memories replay over and over, pulling you back into the horror, convincing you that those wounds are who you are.
I’m going to be honest with you: For much of my life, I carried the identity of a victim. Things happened to me early on that broke me deeply. God’s love has healed so much of my past, yet because of that trauma, I learned unhealthy ways to cope. Even now, when fresh wounds strike, I’m tempted to wear those hurts like a banner, letting them dictate my worth. In those moments, shame floods in. I temporarily forget who I truly am in Christ. Fleeting as they are, those thoughts can make me regress—I feel I deserve punishment instead of grace.
It’s never good when I get off course, but each time I must deliberately remind myself of the truth: I lay those self-imposed scars at the feet of Jesus, who alone can cleanse me and make me whole. And I recall the vision God gave me that forever changed how I see my place in Him…
Some years ago, after a devastating situation plunged me into despair from utter rejection, God met me in a vision. People who once knew me declared I wasn’t even a Christian because, in their eyes, I had mishandled a leadership role. No apology could change their minds; they were finished with me. The pain was so intense I wanted to retreat from my post—to give up the fight entirely.
In the vision, I stood before a grand banqueting table. A banner hung above it, inscribed with “Jehovah Rapha”—a name I didn’t yet understand (I later learned it means “the Lord Who Heals”). Jesus was there, inviting me to sit beside Him. As I approached the seat, I looked up and saw my enemies—their angry, bitter faces glaring at me. They hurled accusations: “Who do you think you are to sit next to Jesus? You’re not worthy!”
The weight of their words crushed me. I collapsed to the floor, convinced I didn’t belong. I wanted to hide, to settle for crumbs from the Master’s table like the woman in the Gospels. I knew I didn’t deserve to sit there.
But Jesus became like an authoritative Father. He reached down, lifted me off the floor, and firmly placed me back in the chair He had prepared for me. “Sit here,” He said.
Still, the scorn burned. I slunk off the chair and back under the table. Jesus grew a little gruffer—as any good father would—and lifted me again, setting me firmly back in place. Just as I had done countless times with my own seven children when they tried to climb down from their chairs, He spoke with gentle but unyielding authority: “I told you to sit here.”
In that moment, everything shifted forever.
I finally understood: My place at the table is not about what I deserve. It is not about my merit, my failures, or my wounds. It is solely about what Jesus has done. My position is secure because of His righteousness, not mine.
And Scripture confirms it:
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies…” —Psalm 23:5
He sets the table right in front of those who accuse me—and He seats me there anyway. Not because I earned it, but because He paid for it with His blood. That truth broke the victim identity off me once and for all.
Some of you may be in the same spot right now, but have no fear: When you have become a child of God, your position is secure in His righteousness. He offers you the same place at His table—not because of anything you’ve done, but because of everything He has done for you.
~SNEEK PEEK…this is taken out of my new book, UNSHAKABLE FAITH: One part of Chapter Five: STAND in Your Position
