Throughout my life, I’ve always struggled with confidence. I would venture to say most people do on some level. But for a long time, I don’t know that I truly understood the extent of my own struggle.

Growing up, I remember there being a big focus on pride and how bad it was. Honestly, pride was one of the great evils of my youth, and I remember being deathly afraid of falling into that trap.

Now, I understand the pitfalls of pride and why it can be so dangerous.

At its core, sinful pride says things like:

I did this.

I know best.

I don’t need help.

I deserve this.

I’m better than them.

I can handle this myself.

Pride can make us self-reliant instead of God-reliant. It can make us difficult to correct because we’ve become so certain that we know best. It can even turn spiritual growth into spiritual status, where prayer, Bible knowledge, service, discipline—even humility itself—become ways we measure ourselves against other Christians.

And maybe most dangerously, pride can quietly shift the glory from God to ourselves.  Instead of Look what God has done, it becomes Look what I have done.

So I tried to live remembering James 4:6: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

But pride is tricky in Christianity because not everything we call “pride” is sinful.

Feeling pleased that you worked hard, being proud of your child, or feeling encouraged because someone recognized growth in you isn’t automatically the kind of pride Scripture warns us about.

Biblical pride is more about self-exaltation and self-sufficiency—when our view of ourselves begins to push God out of His rightful place.

Looking back, I think that’s something I missed.

My mantra throughout my youth and into early adulthood was:

“I can’t do this, but God can.”

And that’s an attitude I carried with me for most of my life.

There is truth in those words. I absolutely need God. I don’t want to live a life that depends entirely on my own strength.

But somewhere along the way, “I can’t do this, but God can” became simply…

I can’t.

I knew humility wasn’t supposed to mean thinking badly about myself, but I did.

I had no confidence.

I had filled my mind with thoughts that I couldn’t do something… anything. I told myself over and over that I was wholly incapable.  And eventually, I believed it.

Then, when I was faced with the affair, it was as though a dam burst. Every one of those feelings—I’m terrible. I’m incapable. I’m worthless. Everyone else is better—washed over me in a way I could no longer control.

I had to do something with them.

I had to learn a new way to think.

A new way to live.

And that’s when I found the next resource I want to share.

Honestly, I don’t even remember how I found this one. I don’t know if I searched for something similar or if I simply stumbled across it, but I’m so grateful I did.

It’s called Enough: Silencing the Lies That Steal Your Confidence by Sharon Jaynes.

This book, among others, was one of those that truly changed me.

The back of the book asks whether the voices in your head constantly tell you that you aren’t good enough, smart enough, pretty enough—or simply enough—and challenges you to stop allowing those lies to determine who you believe you are and instead embrace the truth of who God says you are.

That was me.

This book helped reshape my thinking on so many different levels. It brought light to so much of what I had been telling myself. It helped me see how truth had become twisted in my mind into something it was never intended to be.

Humility had somehow become I am incapable.

Depending on God had somehow become I can’t.

And recognizing something good in myself felt dangerously close to pride.

This book helped rip that thinking away.

Because of this book, I now wear a bracelet as a reminder that says:

“You got this.”

That might seem like such a small thing.  For me, it was huge.  There was a time when I never would have allowed myself to say that. You got this? That sounded like I was relying on myself. Elevating myself. Leaving God out of it.

But I don’t see it that way anymore.  Because God gave me that confidence.

God gave me gifts. He gave me abilities. He gave me strength. He has equipped me for the things He has called me to do.

Saying “I can do this” doesn’t have to mean “I can do this without God.”

For me, it means something entirely different now.

I can because of Him.

So I write on my mirrors. I wear the bracelet. I leave reminders wherever I can of the truth I spent so many years struggling to believe:

God loves me.

He has made me capable.

I am enough because He says I am.

And yes… I can.

If you struggle with confidence, or if humility has somehow become believing you have nothing worthwhile to offer, I encourage you to give this book a try.

It could just change your life as much as it changed mine.