How I Found Myself as a Nobody
This morning I headed to the park, keeping the eyes of my heart open to any fresh nugget of hope. The Lord met me there. The light and shadows danced across the grass before me, and I found myself captivated — drawn into that deep, quiet place in the recesses of my heart where true stillness settles.
As I sat in that stillness, a memory began to surface — a thread the Lord started weaving years ago in this very same park. It was another morning when the light hit the trees just so, and He whispered a revelation that I wrote as a poem. It captures a moment of grief — when I found myself living in the shadows of loss, following the death of a long and loving one-flesh marriage. I've carried the truth of that moment with me ever since.
Reflecting on the poem, I realized that the stillness I felt this morning is the same peace that settled over my heart when I was standing in the shadow of Lee Gaupp’s memorial tree in December of 2024, when it came to me. And it brought to mind a piece I wrote in 2018 when I was wrestling with a different type of loss — words that feel even more "brimming over" with truth now than when I first typed them. As the light and shadows danced before me today, I knew it was time to bring them both back to the surface.
From the Archives: How I Found Myself as a Nobody
I don't know if it always has to be this way, but it wasn't until everything around me crumbled that I came face to face with the reality of my true worth. If you are living in the rubble of betrayal, ruined relationships, isolation, and broken dreams, you are in good company.
Not until I learned how to be a nobody did I step into the strength of who I really am.
The truth is, I want recognition — not the unhealthy kind — just the normal acknowledgment of my presence and value. I think we all do. There have been seasons in my life where I have had that recognition. And seasons I haven't.
We are known for what we do, where we live, or who our family is. When people meet, they make small talk by asking questions to find out who we are. The only way to do this quickly is by asking about all the little outward details. Where are you from? Where do you live? What is your job? Do you have family? Are you married? Do you have kids? And wait for it — where do you go to church? But being known in connection with a group, location, who our family is, or being known by association with others, or what we do can mask who we are. What feels like security for being "known" can actually hinder us from discovering the depth of our value.
This clarity came for Jonah when he was down in the belly of a whale, Joseph found his purpose and identity in prison, and for Daniel it came as he was trapped in a den of lions. Esther felt abandoned after she was taken against her will into the palace, but displayed bold confidence when she fully understood her purpose and what she was supposed to do. Each one found God was present in their entrapment, in their isolation, and danger — situations that were far from ideal.
I have to admit, sometimes I forget how God's Kingdom works. It does not depend on if I move up any type of ladder — like in the business world. Man does not promote me or open doors for me, only God does. Yes, He may use others, but they do not have the power to open heaven's door for me. I am only successful if I stay on the path God has me on and cling to Him on my journey. My success in life, value as a person, and identity rest in Him alone. I have been both known and invisible. Being known was easier and, at the time, gave me a sense of belonging — but it was in being unknown by people that I discovered the rich freedom of being fully known by God.
When He leads me to do what is counter to my thinking, my culture, the system I am in, or my own plan or expectation, I follow because I desire to stay on His course for my life. Many times this has looked like failure or going backwards, but I will not let that deter me. Things are not what they seem, and I know God rarely leads us from point A to point B in a perfectly straight line, but He does perfectly lead us. He leads us out of darkness, through the peaks and rocky cliffs, through the wilderness, the valley, and even through the shadow of death. He is very good at leading us. Therefore, I can trust Him even when I don't fully understand. He has proved this over and over to me in personal ways.
It is not what I do that makes me valuable, but who I am. Even during the times I do not know who I am and others do not know who I am, I am known by God. And when that familiar lie whispers, "Who are you? You are nobody," I confidently say it does not matter! It does not matter if anyone knows me, and the confidence I have in myself does not matter. I do not have to try to be anyone or do anything special because my confidence is only in The Great I Am. His words to me are my confidence. His eyes never leave me. He delights in walking with me. He has adventure planned for me and is eager to lead me to it. Life is not boring. I am not alone. He has lavished me with His love and healed me from hurts and the desire to be known by other people.
Do you want to be successful? Do you want friends? Do you want to "do something of value?" Learn to live in the place you are and to be content without what you envision as success. Release everything that you desire and ask God what His perspective is about you. Ask Him who He is and who He says you are. Then ask God to heal your heart and remove everything that is preventing you from receiving His love.
“I will never desert you, nor will I ever forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5 NASB
“You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” Psalm 16:11 NASB
“But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, That shines brighter and brighter until the full day.” Proverbs 4:18 NASB
This post was originally published November 25, 2018 and has been updated for 2026.
The Lord's voice has a way of echoing. What He whispered to me in that poem is the same truth He continues to reveal today. Looking back at this piece I wrote about identity feels just as fresh and vital now as the day it was first written. It speaks to the wounded heart grappling with belonging, maybe feeling overlooked or abandoned, and questioning value and purpose. The good news is, even in our discomfort, there is a gift of belonging that is available if we choose to accept it.
The stillness of the park isn't just for me — it's an invitation for all of us to look closer. In that spirit of keeping our hearts open, I revisited my earlier thoughts from the archives. I polished them for today, but the heart of the message remains a gift I hope you'll receive.
Found in His shadow,
Tami Sorenson Gaupp
