I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make something of myself.

Build something. Prove something. Protect something.

The only problem? Most of it was about me.

It’s easy to camouflage selfish ambition as “purpose.” To call self-preservation “wisdom.” To post curated humility and call it “ministry.” I’ve done all of that. Sometimes without even realizing it. Other times, fully aware but hoping no one would call me out on it—especially not God.

But somewhere along the way, something started to shift.

Not because I finally figured it out. Not because I climbed some spiritual ladder. Honestly, it was more like a quiet undoing. A holy unraveling. A whispered invitation that said:

“You were made for more. You were made to look like Me.”

That’s Imago Dei.
The image of God.
It’s not just a theological term—it’s the original blueprint for who we are.

The Mirror Moment

There was a day—maybe not a single moment, but a series of them—when I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw.

I don’t mean physically. I mean soul-deep.

I saw the grasping. The insecurity masked by confidence. The subtle pride that always needed credit. The desire to be seen as wise, as right, as “called.”

But if I’m made in His image, why did I look so much like… me?

Jesus didn’t grasp. He gave.
He didn’t demand. He served.
He didn’t self-promote. He emptied Himself.

And I? I was doing the opposite in His name.

Unbecoming to Become

Transformation, I’m learning, isn’t about becoming something new as much as it is unbecoming everything that never belonged to the original design.

Like pride.
Comparison.
Fear dressed up as control.
Wounds I never gave Him access to.

The more I’ve laid those down, the more I’ve caught glimpses of His likeness in me. Not because I tried harder, but because I surrendered deeper.

The Image Restored

Imago Dei doesn’t mean I am God.
It means I reflect Him—when I let Him.

And the best reflection isn’t always in the spotlight. It’s in the hidden places.

It’s forgiving first.
Choosing quiet faithfulness.
Letting others go first.
Admitting weakness.
Confessing sin without spinning it.
Worshipping when no one’s watching.

It’s where selfish me dies a little more, and Jesus in me lives a little louder.

A New Kind of Mirror

These days, when I look in the mirror, I still see flaws. Still see the old “me” wanting to crawl back into the frame. But more and more, I’m seeing glimpses of Someone else.

And honestly, that’s the goal.

I don’t want to be known for charisma. I want to be known for Christ-likeness.
Not for building a name, but for bearing His.

Because if I was made in the image of God, then that’s the only image worth reflecting.

Note to self:
Exalt Thee, not me.
Imago Dei.
More of You, less of me.

Always.

From today’s reading plan, YouVersion.