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What Makes Me Good Enough
Contributed by Lewis Martin on May 26, 2025 (message contributor)
Summary: Have you ever asked yourself, “Am I good enough?” Good enough to be accepted. Good enough to belong. Good enough—for God.
"What Makes Me Good Enough?"
Have you ever asked yourself, “Am I good enough?”
Good enough to be accepted.
Good enough to belong.
Good enough—for God.
Most of us try to answer that question by performing. We stay busy. We work hard. We try to do the right things, avoid the wrong ones, and control how others see us. And if we’re honest, even in church, we can slip into thinking that God’s love must be earned. That if we don’t try hard enough, we’ll fall short.
That’s the exact pressure the apostle Paul is writing about in his letter to the churches in Galatia.
These were new believers—Gentiles—people who didn’t grow up in the Jewish faith. They had heard the gospel: salvation is a gift, not a reward. You receive it by grace, through faith.
But after Paul left, other voices started creeping in. Teachers came saying, “Faith in Jesus is a good start—but if you really want to belong to God’s people, you’ve got to follow the old religious laws. Get circumcised. Keep the food laws. Do the rituals.”
Suddenly, the message had shifted:
“Jesus is fine—but you’ve got to finish what He started.”
And Paul writes back with urgency. This isn’t just a disagreement over tradition. This is about the very heart of the gospel.
Because Paul knows what it’s like to live under pressure. He had spent his life trying to earn righteousness—until grace knocked him flat and rewrote his story.
So now he writes not as a theologian behind a desk, but as a man who’s been set free—and cannot bear to see others put chains back on.
And if we’re honest, this is still our story. In a world full of pressure to perform, Paul’s words come back strong and clear:
“I have been crucified with Christ. I no longer live—but Christ lives in me.”
That’s not just theology. That’s a new way of being human.
Galatians 1:13-17; 2:11-21
13 You know what I was like when I followed the Jewish religion—how I violently persecuted God’s church. I did my best to destroy it. 14 I was far ahead of my fellow Jews in my zeal for the traditions of my ancestors.
15 But even before I was born, God chose me and called me by his marvelous grace. Then it pleased him 16 to reveal his Son to me[a] so that I would proclaim the Good News about Jesus to the Gentiles.
When this happened, I did not rush out to consult with any human being.[b] 17 Nor did I go up to Jerusalem to consult with those who were apostles before I was. Instead, I went away into Arabia, and later I returned to the city of Damascus.
“This is the Word of the Lord.”
(Congregation replies: “Thanks be to God.”)
Point I: Found by Grace (Galatians 1:13–17)
Paul doesn’t begin by defending doctrine. He begins by telling his story.
He says, “You’ve heard who I used to be.”
And they had. He had been feared—zealous, devout, passionate. But also rigid. And violent. Paul hadn’t just disagreed with Christians—he had been hunting them down.
He was convinced he was right. Convinced he was defending God. But the truth is—he was lost in his own righteousness.
Then comes the turning point. Five simple words:
“But when God… who set me apart and called me by His grace, was pleased to reveal His Son in me…”
That’s it. That’s the shift.
Not “when I figured it out.”
Not “when I got tired of religion.”
Not “when I decided to follow Jesus.”
No—“when God…”
Paul wasn’t searching for Jesus. Jesus was searching for Paul.
That’s what grace is. It doesn’t wait for us to clean up. It meets us in the middle of the mess. It interrupts our pride, our pain, our assumptions—and says, “You are mine.”
In our tradition, we call that prevenient grace—God’s grace that comes before. Before we get the words right. Before we know the theology. Before we even realize we need it.
And maybe that’s your story too.
Maybe you’ve been trying to prove yourself—trying to be worthy, spiritual, “together.”
Maybe you’ve been running, hiding, or drifting.
And right here, in this moment, God’s grace is saying: “You don’t have to earn what I’ve already given.”
Paul’s story didn’t begin with strength—it began with surrender.
And maybe that’s where yours begins too.
Point II: Grace Must Be Lived (Galatians 2:11–14)
After telling his story of grace, Paul shares a story of tension—one that catches most people off guard.
Because in this moment, Paul had to confront Peter.
Yes—that Peter. The leader of the apostles. The bold preacher at Pentecost. The one who saw the risen Christ.
Paul admired Peter. But what happened couldn’t be ignored.
Peter had been eating with Gentile believers. He shared life with them, sat at their tables, treated them like equals—just like he should have. He knew God had accepted them fully. He had seen the Holy Spirit poured out on them, just like on the Jews.