Blessed Assurance: Hope Not Grounded in Me

I remember when I invited Jesus into my heart as a five-year-old girl. Whether the memory comes from my own recollections or the story my parents told me, I’m not sure. Every year after that, we celebrated my “Christian birthday,” a day where I received pink roses and glittery cards from family members commemorating the work of God in my life. As a child, I treasured those birthdays as another reminder of how I had been “born again”—another assurance that I had truly been accepted by God.

Yet with every Christian birthday that passed, the memory grew fuzzy at the edges. I had to ask my parents to tell me the story again. Was it in our car or in my bedroom? What did I say? What did you say? I often wondered how much I truly remembered and what I had internalized through my family’s stories.

As the memories faded, so did my confidence in my salvation. I began questioning my faith’s origin story. I wanted to feel assured that the prayer I had repeated from my parents “worked.” I wanted to feel saved.

Searching for Assurance in My Good Works

A child of the nineties, I attended youth events that pulled at the emotions of restless teenagers. Heavy bass beats carried worship songs. Young preachers in skinny jeans held out thinline Bibles to plead their case at the edge of the stage. Hands raised high. Tears streamed down faces. I watched my peers pour down the aisle to the altar. I wondered: should I follow?

Would having a story like theirs give me more confidence in my faith? Would I be able to stop working so hard to prove my faith, and feeling ashamed when I failed, if I had a more dramatic conversion story?

Whenever I wondered if my childlike faith had been enough to truly save me, I strove to “produce fruit consistent with repentance” (Matt. 3:8), as if my own hard work could guarantee that God had saved me. I did all the right things a “good Christian girl” was supposed to do—attending Bible studies, going on mission trips, avoiding the more “obvious” sins, etc. Yet in my mind I always seemed to fall short. So I hid in shame because my faith seemed so fragile. My heart felt heavy with guilt that I couldn’t keep the perfect Christian life together. For decades, I oscillated between striving and shame, wondering if I would ever feel confident in my salvation.

Finding Confidence in Christ’s Finished Work

Then, one day in the darkness of my bedroom—when it seemed like I would never have the confidence to come before God—the light of truth finally broke through my shame and my striving. “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). Though I had been a believer for decades, I finally realized that my faith was not about what I could do—but about what Christ had done!

Through his compassionate grace and steadfast love, God revealed that I had wrongly measured the assurance of my faith by how strongly I believed in him. By how well I performed good works or said the “right” prayers. By my perfection. In this moment, I realized my salvation didn’t come from my faithfulness, but from Christ’s faithfulness (2 Tim. 2:13). The assurance of my faith was measured by the object of my faith—the perfection of Christ and his finished work.

When I craved certainty that my salvation was secure, I needn’t look at all my feeble attempts at godliness I made over the years. While those good works could be the fruit of faith, they could never be the source of my faith. When I needed assurance, I could look to the finished work of Jesus Christ, my high priest and sufficient sacrifice who is seated at the right hand of God.

“Since we have boldness to enter the sanctuary through the blood of Jesus—he has inaugurated for us a new and living way through the curtain” (Heb. 10:19-20). By his sacrifice, Jesus has given us confidence to come before God the Father. Therefore, “Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith” (Heb. 10:22). Our assurance is not based on “feeling” saved, or in doing the right things, but on the perfect work of Christ in us and for us.

We don’t have to anxiously strive for perfection or feel ashamed over our imperfections, because Christ has perfected us forever (Heb. 10:14).

Living in Full Assurance of Faith

When we live with full assurance of faith, we don’t come before God based on our own flawed merit but on the all-sufficient merit of Christ. This prompts the question: if our confidence is not in our obedience, then why is Scripture filled with commands to obey? What is the point of our good works if we are saved by the finished work of Jesus?

As I began to walk in freedom from shame and striving, I was surprised to find myself motivated to do more good works than I had before. When I no longer feared losing God’s favor with every mistake, I discovered I now obeyed out of delight rather than duty. I continued to read God’s Word, serve my local church, and repent of my sin—not because I was trying to earn God’s love but because I knew I was already fully beloved by him.

From this assurance in Christ’s work and the Father’s love, I began to enjoy the same spiritual disciplines that once burdened me. I joined with the apostle Paul in praise: “Thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed” (Rom. 6:17). I was no longer enslaved to the gospel of works. At the same time, I could be a living sacrifice to the God who had shown me abundant mercy (Rom. 12:1).

My good works are not the assurance of my faith, but they are the evidence of my assured faith in Christ. With every Christian birthday, I now celebrate how Christ has perfected me and continues to make me more like him every day.

Celebrating Christ’s Continued Work in Me

My assurance of faith wasn’t found in the whispered words of a little girl, or in her anxious strivings for decades that followed. God didn’t expect me to exude a certain emotion or accomplish a level of spiritual success. Instead, my acceptance before God was secure forever in Christ’s perfect work—and he promises to continue his good work in me until it is complete (Phil. 1:6).

I still get texts from my parents and grandparents on an April morning every year to remember my Christian birthday. They continue to praise God for his work in my life. Now, I can celebrate with them! I may not be able to remember the faith of my five-year-old, freckled-face self, but I now know where my faith truly lies. It rests not in my imperfect words or incomplete work, but in the perfect word and finished work of Christ on my behalf.