Remember Who You Are

From The Ashes

Have you ever noticed that temptation rarely announces itself as danger?

It usually shows up dressed as relief. Relief from stress. Relief from hunger. Relief from insecurity. Relief from the pressure you’re carrying. Temptation doesn’t usually feel evil. It feels reasonable. And that’s why it’s dangerous.

After a wildfire, all that remains is ash. Blackened trees. Broken ground. Silence. It looks lifeless. Hopeless. But if you come back months later, something surprising happens. Tiny green shoots begin pushing up through the ash. Life where there was devastation. Lent begins in ashes. Ash Wednesday marks us with a reminder of mortality and brokenness. But Lent is not about staying in ashes. It’s about what rises from them.

Some of us feel like our lives are a pile of ashes—mistakes made, relationships strained, habits we can’t seem to break. Others of us may look fine on the outside but know there’s a quiet battle inside. The good news of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is this: You are not broken beyond repair. And yet—before resurrection comes wilderness.

Before Jesus ever preached a sermon…Before He healed a sick person…Before He called a single disciple…He was led into the wilderness to be tempted (Matthew 4:1–11). Let that sink in. Temptation was not a detour. It was preparation. We should not be surprised that we face temptation. We all do. Every single day.

Not always dramatic sin. Sometimes small compromises: Sneaking extra time on social media when we should be working. Binging another episode when we know we need rest. Cutting corners financially. Speaking half-truths. They seem harmless. But small compromises train the heart. And over time, those little cracks widen. Broken marriages rarely start with catastrophe. Ministries rarely collapse overnight. Faith rarely disappears in a day. It drifts. James 4:7 says, “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” But before we can resist, we have to remember.

In Matthew 3, just before the wilderness, God speaks over Jesus at His baptism: “This is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased.” Notice what God does not say. He doesn’t say, “This is my Son who performed miracles.” He doesn’t say, “This is my Son who proved Himself.” Jesus hadn’t done anything publicly yet. His identity came before His activity.

And what is the very first thing the devil attacks? “If you are the Son of God…” (Matthew 4:3) If you are. The attack was not about hunger. It was about identity. The enemy still uses the same strategy. “If you were really a Christian…” “If you really loved God…” “If you were truly forgiven…” “If God really cared, you wouldn’t be suffering…” The voice may change, but the motive doesn’t. Doubt who you are. Doubt who God is.

James tells us, “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you” (James 4:8). Lent is a season of drawing near. And drawing near begins by remembering: You are a beloved son. You are a beloved daughter. When you remember who you are in Christ, temptation loses its power.

After 40 days of fasting, Jesus is starving. The devil tempts Him: “Turn these stones into bread.” That seems reasonable, doesn’t it? What’s the underlying issue? Provision. We all feel that pressure. Will I have enough? Enough money. Enough security. Enough stability. We may not be tempted to turn stones into bread, but we are tempted to trust ourselves more than God.

Jesus responds: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” Lent invites us to fast—not because food is bad—but because we need to be reminded that food is not ultimate. When we go without something—even something good—we remember that God is our source. A good Shepherd provides for His sheep. A good Father provides for His children. The wilderness reminds us: God can be trusted.

The devil takes Jesus to the temple and says, essentially, “Jump. God will catch you.” Test Him. How often are we tempted to presume upon grace? We know God forgives. We know He restores. We know He works all things for good. And sometimes we treat that grace casually. We flirt with danger spiritually. We excuse compromise. We assume God will clean up what we knowingly step into. Jesus responds, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

Sometimes the most spiritual word you can say is “No.” No to that conversation. No to that habit. No to that situation. James 4:10 says, “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you.” Humility says: I am not strong enough on my own. And that’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.

Finally, the devil offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the world. No cross. No suffering. Just glory. All He had to do was bow. This is the temptation of position and power. We feel it too. We are tempted to compromise our values for advancement. To worship success. To measure ourselves by promotions, titles, influence. But here’s the truth: Your eternal position in Christ is greater than any earthly promotion. You are already an heir to an unshakable kingdom. The best is yet to come. When we forget that, we start chasing temporary crowns. When we remember who we are in Christ, temptation loses its power.

There is one glaring reality in every temptation. Jesus responded with Scripture. Not emotion. Not willpower. Not argument. The Word. If Scripture was sufficient for Jesus, it is sufficient for us. Lent is not about religious performance. It is about re-centering. Maybe for you that means: Giving up evening TV for time in the Word. Setting yo ur alarm 30 minutes earlier. Reading a Proverb a day. Reading Scripture over meals as a family. The tempter is not taking the next six weeks off before Easter. But neither is the Spirit. James says, “Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” Resist. Not because you are strong. But because you belong to Christ.

Some of us walked in today feeling like ashes. Some of us walked in confident but unaware of quiet compromises forming in our hearts. Lent is an invitation. An invitation to the wilderness—not to destroy you, but to clarify you. To strip away false voices. To remember who you are. You are not broken beyond repair. You are not abandoned in the wilderness. You are not defined by your temptation. You are a beloved child of God. And when you remember who you are in Christ, temptation loses its power. That is how life rises from ashes.