We’ve all been there. Honestly, it was probably in middle school. We felt all the laughs and staring and whispers. It felt like burning hot coals were being poured down the backs of our shirts. Our faces turned the color of strawberry Starburst candy.

It doesn’t even matter what it was about. If we decide to pick up that memory, the fiery shame is still accessible, right next to our most humiliating moments.

It’s hard to think of God in these moments. Even when the memories come, it’s hard to disrupt them and choose who we are in his sight and not in the world’s. But we must learn to fight for our identity in him.