We live in a culture built on the pillars of high self-esteem. You’ve likely heard the mantras:
“You’re good enough.”
“You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“You are enough.”
This kind of thinking is new in the grand scheme of history. Never before have people been so intentionally built up to believe they are wonderful without condition. But if this narrative is true, why are we facing a mental health crisis like never before?
Despite decades of self-affirming messages, statistics paint a bleak picture:
What’s gone wrong?
Certainly, issues like social media, economic instability, and substance abuse play a role. But what’s rarely discussed is the inflation of self-esteem and a lack of resilience training. When we teach people they’re flawless but never prepare them for failure, reality hits like a freight train.
We are not perfect.
We do need to grow.
Failure is possible—and often painful.
So what happens when life doesn’t affirm our greatness?
Scripture doesn’t build us up with false positivity. It deals in reality—and then reveals something far better than ego-boosting slogans: divine power made perfect in human weakness.
Paul knew this tension. In 2 Corinthians 3, he responds to criticism from the very church he helped establish. He doesn’t defend himself with a resume or demand recognition. Instead, he says:
“You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts… not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God.” (v. 2–3)
Paul points not to his own credentials, but to changed lives—evidence of what only God can do. He doesn’t boast in himself, but in the transforming power of Christ. He continues:
“Not that we are competent in ourselves… but our competence comes from God.” (v. 5)
This is the heart of the gospel. Our strength, ability, and sufficiency don’t come from ourselves—they come from Him.
Culture teaches us to be enough. The gospel teaches us we are not enough—but God is more than enough.
We don’t need to pretend we’re capable of everything. In fact, admitting we’re not opens the door to divine power. Paul knew this deeply. Later in the same letter, he writes:
“I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me… For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9–10)
When we acknowledge our weakness, we make room for God's strength. Weakness is not a liability—it’s a channel for God's power.
This doesn’t mean we walk around feeling sorry for ourselves. Paul is not advocating for insecurity or false humility. Rather, he models God-centered confidence. As C.S. Lewis famously said:
“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.”
True humility isn’t passive or self-deprecating—it’s rooted in dependence on God. Like Brother Lawrence wrote centuries ago, even our best efforts are sustained by grace. In success, we give thanks. In failure, we seek mercy and try again—still abiding in Him.
“Apart from me, you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)
In the end, Paul writes:
“He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” (v. 6)
We are not self-made. We are Spirit-empowered.
The power of weakness is not about staying stuck in brokenness. It’s about embracing our need so we can experience God's provision. It’s about finding confidence—not in ourselves, but in Christ. That is where life begins. That is where real power lives.