“Place your focus on Christ.”

“Place your faith in Christ.”

“Place your future in Christ.”

Those words have come out of my mouth many times as I have taught small groups of ladies or as I have spoken to larger audiences at retreats or women’s conferences. So please understand the embarrassment on my face and in my heart as I share this next thought:

It’s actually quite easy to “point the spotlight on Christ” when the spotlight is on me.

But what happens when the spotlight is removed—when I find myself to be an “unknown” in a new crowd of faces? Suddenly, it’s now actually quite easy to turn the spotlight back on myself and all the changes that I somehow think are oh, so traumatic, apparently seeking some sort of validation from my new surroundings. (Insert a pathetic-sounding round of “Oh, poor me; no one here knows me, and I’m feeling so alone,” and you’ll have the tone of this pity party.)

But I won’t dwell there long. In fact, I’m going to close this post with exactly what I recorded in my journal—preceded by a bunch of selfishly personal thoughts that I’m not about to post here—after being struck by the amazing thing I saw when reading John chapter three today:

“Once again the humility of John the Baptist comes to the forefront, and he steps into the shadows to shine a spotlight on Christ: ‘He must increase, but I must decrease.'”

Lord, thank You for removing me from the comfort of the oh, so small and temporary spotlight and placing me in the shadows, for there, I can see the importance of the spotlight that I am able to shine on You—and You alone—when it is unhindered by anything else, free to illuminate Your face, Your heart, and Your love.