I preach, but I am not first a preacher.
I play and sing, but am not first a musician.
Born in the U.S.A., but not first an American.
Love, and am loved by a father, mother, two brothers and more, but am not first a part of that family.
I have a fine car and a nice place to live, but they do not define me; friends, well-wishers and a few admirers, but neither do they.
I have people who do not admire or respect me, who overlook and disregard me, but they do not define me, either.
I’ve had successes, but they are not the headline of my story.
I’ve had failures, but they don’t have the last word.
NO, my story is written in red, my value determined by my identity and my identity defined and secured by the blood-price paid for me by the Son of God.
I am a child of God, first, foremost and above all else, and as an adopted child, a co-heir with Christ Jesus of the promises of God both now and for eternity…
And if you know this Jesus as Savior and Lord…