I Am Not a Bum. You Are Not a Loser.
Part 3: What God Says About You
When the dust settled—after the years of destruction and loss, after the breakthrough, after the tears—I found myself alone with God. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t running from Him. I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t pretending. I was just… there. Broken and still. And He was there too.
That’s when He began to open the Scriptures to me in a way I had never experienced before.
I’d read the Bible plenty of times. I’d looked at those pictures as a seven-year-old boy. I’d heard sermons and memorised verses. But this was different. It was as if someone had turned on a light inside the words themselves. Verses I’d passed over a hundred times suddenly stopped me in my tracks. They weren’t just words on a page anymore. They were alive. They were speaking to the broken places inside me—the places my father’s words had imprisoned and poisoned, the places the enemy had occupied for decades.
And they didn’t just speak. They washed. Like clean water over old wounds. Gently. Persistently. Day after day.
I want to do for you now what those scriptures did for me. Whether you’re the one who’s been hurting, or the one who’s been doing the hurting—and let’s be honest, hurting others doesn’t always look like bullying; it comes in many faces, many forms, many quiet betrayals we don’t even recognise until later—these words are for you.
Today. Not after you’ve fixed yourself. Not after you’ve earned it. Today.
What the Enemy Said. What God Says.
The enemy told you that you’re worthless. That you’re a bum, a loser, a failure. That you should never have been born. That the world would be better off without you.
God says something very different.
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” — Psalm 139:14
You were not mass-produced. You were not an accident. You were crafted—intentionally, carefully, wonderfully—by a God who doesn’t make mistakes. The same hands that flung stars into space took the time to knit you together. And He looked at what He made and called it VERY good.
The enemy told you that your life has no purpose. That you’re going nowhere. That nothing will ever change. But God says,
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11
God didn’t just create you and walk away. He has plans for your life—specific, intentional plans. Not plans to destroy you. Plans to prosper you. The very word “prosper” stands in direct opposition to every lie you’ve been told about your future. The enemy wants you to believe your story is already written. God says He’s still writing it.
The enemy told you that nobody cares. That you’re alone. That no one sees you.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
Not far. Not distant. Not watching from a safe distance. Near. When your spirit is crushed—when you’re at your lowest, your most broken, the place where you can’t even pray because the words won’t come—that’s where God draws closest. He doesn’t wait for you to clean yourself up. He meets you in the mess.
And If You’re the One Who’s Been Doing the Hurting
I haven’t forgotten about you. You’re just as much a part of this as anyone else. Maybe more so, because the guilt of knowing you’ve wounded others can be its own kind of poison and prison.
Hurting others doesn’t always look like what the world calls bullying. Sometimes it’s the sharp word you can’t take back. The relationship you poisoned with your anger. The child you spoke to the way someone once spoke to you—and the sickening moment you heard your own parents’ voice coming out of your mouth. The friend you betrayed. The trust you broke. The person you ignored when they needed you most.
The enemy wants you to believe you’re too far gone. That what you’ve done can’t be undone. That you don’t deserve forgiveness.
God says:
“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” — 1 John 1:9
All. Not some. Not the small ones. Not the ones you can explain away. All unrighteousness. That includes the thing you’re thinking about right now—the one you haven’t told anyone. He already knows. And He’s not turning away.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” — 2 Corinthians 5:17
A new creation. Not a patched-up version of the old one. Not a repaired wreck with the dents still showing. New. The old life—the one built on lies and pain and cycles of destruction—passes away. And something entirely new begins.
Let These Wash Over You
When God opened the Scriptures to me, He didn’t give me a theology lecture. He gave me water for parched ground. I want to share some of those words with you now. Don’t rush through them. Let them sit. Let them speak to the places that hurt.
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28
You’re tired. I know you are. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending. Tired of carrying a weight that was never yours to carry. Jesus doesn’t say, “Figure it out and then come to me.” He says, “Come as you are. And I will give you rest.”
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3
He doesn’t just acknowledge your brokenness. He heals it. He doesn’t just see your wounds. He binds them up. This is a God who gets His hands into the mess of your life—not to judge you, but to put you back together.
“But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds, declares the Lord, because you are called an outcast, Zion for whom no one cares.” — Jeremiah 30:17
Read that last part again. “Because you are called an outcast… for whom no one cares.” God specifically addresses this promise to the people the world has written off. The ones nobody cares about. That’s not a coincidence. He’s talking to you.
“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” — Ezekiel 36:26
If your heart has gone hard—from years of protecting yourself, years of anger, years of numbing the pain—God isn’t asking you to soften it on your own. He’s offering to do it for you. A heart transplant. The old stone one out, a living one in its place.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” — Isaiah 40:31
You don’t have to generate the strength yourself. You just have to put your hope in the right place. He does the rest.
This Is Who You Are
I said in the last post that the Beatitudes are a portrait. Let me show you what I mean. When Jesus sat down on that hillside and opened His mouth, He wasn’t describing weakness. He was describing the very people God chooses to do His greatest work through.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
If you feel spiritually bankrupt right now—empty, with nothing to offer God—you’re exactly where He wants you. The kingdom of heaven belongs to people who’ve stopped pretending they can do this on their own.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
Your grief is not pointless. Your tears are not wasted. Every ounce of mourning—for what was done to you, for what you’ve done to others, for the years that were stolen—God sees it, and He promises comfort. Not eventually. Not in theory. They shall be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”
The world told you meekness is weakness. That the meek get trampled. But God says the meek inherit the earth. Once you have the life of Christ in you, once the fear is gone, you don’t need to fight for your place anymore. You lead others to their healing. You lead others to repentance. You inherit something far greater than anything the bully or the liar ever promised.
Every one of the Beatitudes speaks of you. And of me. And of everyone who has been broken and is ready to be remade.
Today
I’m not asking you to fix yourself. I’m not asking you to be strong. I’m asking you to consider the possibility that everything the enemy told you about yourself is a lie—and that the God who made you has been trying to tell you the truth for a very long time.
There is hope for you today. Not tomorrow. Not when you’ve earned it. Today.
There is trust in Jesus for you today. Not a religion. Not a set of rules. A relationship—a real, actual relationship—with a God who already knows everything you’ve done and everything that’s been done to you. And He’s not running. He’s standing right there, in the middle of your mess, with His hand out.
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” — Revelation 3:20
He’s not kicking the door down. He’s knocking. Gently. Persistently. The way He’s been knocking your whole life. The question isn’t whether He’s there. The question is whether you’ll open the door.
In the final post, I’m going to show you how to take the high ground—and keep it. How to stand firm so the lies don’t take root again. How to walk in the freedom that Jesus paid for.
But for now, just sit with this:
You are fearfully and wonderfully made. You are not an accident. You are not what they called you. You are who God says you are.
And what He says is that you are worth dying for.
Because He did.
If you or someone you know is in crisis right now, please reach out. You are not alone.
New Zealand: Lifeline 0800 543 354 | Need to Talk? Free call or text 1737
USA: National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 988 | Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
UK: Samaritans 116 123 | Australia: Lifeline 13 11 14
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