Stepping Out of the Way

In his book It’s Not About Me, Max Lucado shares an image that has stayed with me.

He compares the preacher to a guide in an art gallery and Christ to the painting. The guide’s job is not to be admired. He is not the masterpiece. His role is to step aside so the painting can be seen clearly.

That picture unsettled me in a good way.

Because if I am honest, I do not always want to step aside.

Lucado writes, “I believe Satan trains battalions of demons to whisper one question in our ears, ‘What are people thinking of you?’”

That question has followed me more than I care to admit.

Have you ever replayed a conversation in your mind, wondering how you came across?
Have you ever preached or shared something and quietly evaluated the reactions in the room?
Have you ever measured your worth by someone else’s response?

I have.

And that whisper slowly shifts the focus from Christ to self.

Decreasing Is Not Comfortable

John the Baptist understood something most of us struggle to accept. When his disciples were concerned that Jesus was gaining more attention, John responded:

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30, NKJV)

In context, John had every reason to protect his influence. Crowds were following him. His ministry was established. Yet he understood his assignment. He was never the light. He was the forerunner pointing to the Light.

Decreasing sounds spiritual until it becomes personal.

Decreasing means my reputation is not the priority.
Decreasing means my recognition is not the goal.
Decreasing means I may not be remembered.

And that is where I struggled.

Wrestling With “Only Jesus”

There is a song by Casting Crowns called Only Jesus. One lyric always caught me:

“And I, I don’t want to leave a legacy
I don’t care if they remember me
Only Jesus.”

That line bothered me for a long time.

I did care if I was remembered. I wanted my life to matter. I wanted impact. I did not want to disappear into obscurity.

Maybe you have felt that too.

But history is honest. Even the greatest men and women fade from memory. Names once spoken with honor become footnotes. Statues gather dust. Generations move on.

The second verse of the song reframed everything for me:

“And I, I’ve only got one life to live
I’ll let every second point to Him
Only Jesus.”

That is the shift.

It is not about erasing significance. It is about redefining it.

What if true impact is not being remembered, but being faithful? What if legacy is not a name carved in stone, but a life that pointed to Christ?

The Garden Shift

The struggle to make life about ourselves is not new.

In Genesis 3, the serpent told Eve, “You will be like God” (Genesis 3:5, NKJV). That was the turning point. The temptation was not just about fruit. It was about focus.

From God-centered to self-centered.

That shift still tempts us.

Make it about you.
Protect your image.
Build your influence.

Yet Paul reminds us of our true calling:

“For we do not preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord, and ourselves your bondservants for Jesus’ sake.” (2 Corinthians 4:5, NKJV)

In context, Paul was defending his ministry. He made it clear that the message was never about promoting himself. He was a servant delivering Someone else’s glory.

That confronts me.

Am I subtly preaching myself?
Am I serving Christ, or curating perception?

Crucified With Christ

Paul goes even further:

“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20, NKJV)

Crucifixion is not symbolic language about minor adjustment. It is death.

If I am crucified with Christ, then my ego does not get center stage. My insecurity does not get the final word. My need for applause does not drive the mission.

Christ lives in me.

That is the point.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.” (John 8:12, NKJV)

He is the Light. I am simply called to reflect Him.

When I think about God, there is no greater thought.
When I speak about Jesus, there is no greater conversation.

I cannot save anyone.
I cannot redeem a heart.

But He can.

“Nor is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12, NKJV)

If that is true, then why would I compete for attention that belongs to Him?

A Personal Confession

Here is my confession.

I want my friends and family to know Jesus. Not just know about Him, but truly know Him. I want every sermon, every conversation, every unseen act of obedience to quietly point in His direction.

The whisper still comes. What are people thinking of you?

But I am learning to answer it with a better question.

Are they seeing Jesus?

A Call to Reflection

We each have one life.

One voice.
One sphere of influence.
One story.

What is your life pointing to?

When people interact with you, do they leave impressed with you or aware of Him?

This week, try something intentional. Before you walk into a meeting, a service, or a conversation, pray a simple prayer:

Lord, let them see Jesus.

That is enough.

If I am forgotten but He is remembered, that is success.

If my life helps someone see the beauty of Christ more clearly, then I have fulfilled my purpose. I was created for this.

Only Jesus.