Making Time Count: Identity Before Activity in 2025

As we step into 2025, many of us are doing the familiar dance with time management. There are 168 hours in a week, and after accounting for eight hours of sleep each night, we're left with 102 hours to allocate. Whether you're juggling work commitments, family responsibilities, or personal goals, the question remains: How will you spend this precious time?

But before we dive into planning our schedules and setting our goals, there's a more fundamental question we need to address: Who are we, and what story are we living in? Our activities flow from our identity, and without a clear understanding of who we are, we risk filling our time with actions that stem from a false sense of self.

This truth is beautifully illustrated in the story of Jesus's baptism. When Jesus traveled 70 miles from Galilee to be baptized by John the Baptist, it wasn't because he needed cleansing from sin. Rather, it was an act of obedience that flowed from his identity as God's Son. Even John the Baptist was surprised, attempting to prevent Jesus from being baptized. But Jesus insisted, saying it was necessary "to fulfill all righteousness."

This moment wasn't about following rules under threat of punishment. Instead, it demonstrated the kind of obedience that comes from a loving relationship – like taking out the trash when asked, not because you fear consequences, but because you care about the person asking and understand the benefit. It's a response born of trust and mutual understanding.

In this pivotal moment, God's voice declared, "This is my beloved Son. I take delight in him." These words, drawing from multiple Old Testament passages, confirmed Jesus's identity and set the foundation for his ministry. It's a powerful reminder that God always points back to His Word to confirm identity and relationship.

This has profound implications for our own lives. Too often, we let our activities define us rather than the other way around. We become "the softball dad" who can't let go when the season ends, or "the cheerleader mom" who clings to an identity long past its relevance. We define ourselves by our jobs, our relationships, or our roles, never fully embracing who we are at our core.

When we lose sight of our true identity, we typically fall into one of two traps: self-promotion or self-pity. We either constantly talk about our achievements and inject ourselves into every conversation, or we wallow in our circumstances, believing we'll never measure up. Both responses miss the mark because they make our identity about what we can or cannot do rather than who God says we are.

The good news is that for those who are in Christ, the same words spoken over Jesus at his baptism are available to us: "This is my beloved child." This isn't about faking it until you make it – it's about accepting that through Christ, you've already "made it." You're already loved, already accepted, already part of the family.

This identity gives us stability in a chaotic world. When grief strikes or uncertainty looms, we can respond from a place of security in who we are rather than scrambling to prove our worth or succumbing to despair.

But here's the catch: knowing our identity is only half the battle. We must also respond to it, and importantly, we shouldn't do this alone. Jesus himself did nothing in isolation, and neither should we. As you think about your goals and changes for 2025, who are you journeying with?

Sometimes this means finding someone to send a simple text checking if you're isolating yourself. Sometimes it's having someone hold you accountable for your financial goals by calling out that daily coffee purchase. The specific support might vary, but the principle remains: change happens in community.

So as you consider how to spend your 168 hours this week, start with identity before activity. Don't just ask what you should do; ask who you are and whose you are. Let your schedule flow from your secure position as God's beloved child rather than trying to earn that position through your accomplishments.

Remember, you don't need to promote yourself because God already delights in you. You don't need to pity yourself because God has already given you a place in His family. Instead, you can live and work from a place of acceptance, letting your activities flow from your identity rather than trying to create an identity through your activities.

In 2025, may we all learn to hear and believe the voice that speaks over us: "This is my beloved child, in whom I take delight." And may that identity shape how we spend every one of those 168 hours each week.