When You Don't Feel Worthy

There are some sermons that come out of study, and some that come out of history, and some that come out of doctrine…

But every once in a while, a sermon comes out of the quiet places inside the soul. The places where you don’t speak out loud. The places you don’t even write down. The places where you just sit with God and hope He doesn’t see how much you’re hiding.

This is one of those sermons.

It’s one for the people who know what it means to walk into a room full of believers and still feel like you’re not enough. For the people who know how to sing the songs, read the Scriptures, pray the prayers — and still carry a quiet ache that says, “If God really knew me… He wouldn’t want me.”

It’s for the ones who smile easily, but sleep restlessly.

The ones who serve faithfully, but feel like frauds.

The ones who look put-together in public, but undone in private.

The ones who compare themselves to everybody else and come up short.

The ones who carry a memory they can’t shake, a failure they can’t fix, a shame they can’t cover.

It’s for the ones who don’t feel worthy.

And if that’s you — you’re not alone.

Not by a long shot.

Isaiah 43 opens with some of the most intimate words God ever spoke. Not to kings or prophets. Not to saints or heroes. Not to the strong. Not to the confident.

But to a broken nation who had failed Him. Repeatedly. Publicly. Embarrassingly.

And it’s to them — to the unworthy — that God says:

> “Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by your name;

you are Mine.”

(Isaiah 43:1)

When I read those words, something moves inside me.

Not because they’re poetic.

But because they’re personal.

“Fear not.”

Not because you’re strong.

Not because you’re consistent.

Not because you’re righteous.

Not because you finally got your act together.

No — fear not… because God has done something.

“I have redeemed you.”

Not, “You redeemed yourself.”

Not, “You fixed it.”

Not, “You worked hard enough.”

Not, “You made Me proud.”

But:

“I redeemed you. I stepped in. I paid for you. I fought for you. I claimed you.”

We spend so much time trying to prove that we’re enough, when God keeps telling us:

“Worthiness doesn’t come from you. It comes from Me.”

And then He says what might be the most healing sentence in the entire Old Testament:

> “I have called you by your name.”

Not by your failure.

Not by your past.

Not by your reputation.

Not by your weakness.

Not by your sin.

Not by your mistakes.

Not by the name shame calls you.

Not by the name the enemy whispers.

Not by the name you fear in your own mind.

By your name.

Your real name.

The one He gave you before the world ever broke you.

The one He still hears when you don’t feel worth hearing.

The one Jesus died to make sure you could keep.

God does not call you “Failure.”

He does not call you “Unworthy.”

He does not call you “Not enough.”

He does not call you “Disappointment.”

He calls you by your name.

And in a world where people change their identity based on performance…

in a culture where value is measured by comparison…

in a generation where worth is tied to public approval…

God steps in and says:

“You are Mine.”

Not by accident.

Not by default.

Not because nobody else wanted you.

Not because He feels obligated.

But because He chose you.

Now — if you’re younger, if you’re in that 25–40 zone — this hits a little differently than it does for older believers. Because people in their 30s don’t usually walk around thinking about eternity. Not yet.

You’re thinking about the tension between who you are and who you think you’re supposed to be.

You’re thinking about comparison.

About perfection.

About expectations.

About trying to be a good parent, a good spouse, a good employee, a good believer… and wondering if you’re doing any of it well.

People in their 30s don’t struggle with nostalgia — they struggle with pressure.

People in their 30s don’t feel like failures at the end of the race — they feel like failures in the middle of it.

They’re not looking back at mistakes — they’re living inside them.

This is exactly why this message matters so much for you.

Because when God says, “You are Mine,” He’s speaking into the competition, the fear of not measuring up, the worry that everybody else is further along than you are, the voice that says you should be more, do more, know more, fix more, achieve more, be better.