Reality & The Pillars of Meaning

My search for the answer to why I’m so pulled toward selfish behavior was incredibly interesting.

The first thing I discovered was that underneath a lot of our behavior are five fundamental questions we need answered:

Identity — Who am I?
What ultimately defines me? My failures? My successes? Other people’s opinions? Something deeper?

Worth —Do I have value? Does my life matter?

Security — Am I safe?
Will I ultimately be okay if circumstances change or things fall apart?

Purpose — Do I matter?
Does my life have meaning? What am I here to contribute?

Belonging — Am I accepted?
Am I wanted? Do I have a place? Am I ultimately alone?

The answers to those questions have to come from somewhere. And the way we live depends largely on the source we trust to answer them.

Think of the five questions as pillars holding up our mental health. Think of the source we use to answer them as the foundation.

If I build my pillars on shifting sand, every time the ground moves—a criticism, a financial loss, a breakup, a failure—the whole structure is threatened. So I have to keep finding ways to reinforce it.

But if the pillars rest on rock, the same winds can howl without moving the foundation. The pillars aren’t secure because nothing ever hits them. They are secure because what they’re resting on doesn’t move.

The question, then, is what I’ve built my life on—and whether it can move.

There are plenty of things I can build on:

Money that can be gained or lost.
Careers, positions, and accomplishments that can disappear.
Other people’s opinions that can change overnight.
Appearance, strength, health, and youth that change with time.
People who can leave, disappoint us, reject us, or die.
Intelligence and abilities that will always have limits.

None of these things are bad. The problem arises when we ask them to do what they can’t. They can’t tell me who I am, what I’m worth, whether I’m safe, whether I belong, or why I matter.

And when I depend on changing things to answer those questions, I have to keep finding ways to get whatever I need to keep the answers intact.

If I don’t know who I am, other people’s opinions begin shaping my identity.

If I don’t believe I have worth, I may need praise, recognition, achievement, or attention to prove that I matter.

If I don’t feel secure, I may try to control people, outcomes, and circumstances so nothing can threaten me.

If I don’t believe my life has purpose, I may behave in ways that help me feel important, successful, needed, or indispensable.

And if I don’t know I belong, I may cling, compare, become jealous or demanding, or constantly reshape myself to fit the people around me.

In each case, I’m looking outside myself for something I need in order to remain okay. And that changes the way I relate to other people.

I need something from them, so I do what I must to get it.

If nothing in creation can securely answer these questions, then where do we look?

We were created for God. Our hearts naturally long for things that reflect His character—and ultimately, only He can fully satisfy us.

And when I look to God to answer these deep, fundamental questions, something changes.

The answers stop moving.

Identity — Who am I?
I am a child of God, chosen to be a Kingdom citizen.
Who I belong to doesn’t change.

Worth — Am I enough?
I was intentionally created by God, in His image, and redeemed at extraordinary cost.

Security — Am I safe?
I belong to the God who is in control. My circumstances aren’t always secure. My God is. Nothing that happens to me is outside His knowledge or authority, and nothing can ultimately separate me from Him or steal my real life and treasure in new creation.

Purpose — Do I matter?
I was created in God’s image to know Him, reflect Him, and participate in what He is doing in His world. I was made on purpose, for a purpose.

Belonging — Am I accepted?
God wanted me before I ever had anything to offer Him. He made me. He knows me completely and still wants me. He chose me to be a part of His family and have a place at His table in His Kingdom. I am free to be myself. No more masks.

His character and truth are unchanging, and that makes God fundamentally different from every other source I could go to.

When these five pillars rest on Him, I’ve built my life on something that cannot be shaken.

When I trust God to answer these fundamental questions, I no longer need the people around me to answer them.

I don’t need to be better than you to know that I have worth.

I don’t need your approval to know who I am.

I don’t need to control you to feel secure.

I don’t need to be important to know that my life matters.

And I don’t need you to choose me in order to know that I belong.

I am no longer looking at the people around me and asking: What can I get from you so that I can be okay?

My needs are anchored somewhere they can’t reach.

And that frees me to ask a completely different question:

What can I give?

I can celebrate instead of compare.

Serve instead of compete.

Listen instead of needing to be heard.

Give without calculating what I’ll get back.

I can love freely.

All because my cup overflows from a Source that never runs dry.

And now, I am free to live a life marked by humility rather than selfish ambition.

But being free to do something and actually doing it are two different things.

So, riddle me this, Batman.

If I’m not capable of producing humility in my own heart, how does it get there?