When I was a kid, I was bullied and teased. I remember once an older boy who lived across the street pulled my short pants down in front of other kids, including a girl. Everyone laughed, and I fought back the tears of shame. I got into many fights, but I never threw the first punch. My dad’s answer to bullies was to teach me to fight back, so I did.

In contrast, I was also a scholar and an athlete. I was proud of my academic achievements: graduating salutatorian of my high school class, running cross-country, and being part of a winning team. Being salutatorian earned me a trophy; being an athlete earned me letters, pins, trophies, and plaques. I also won many trophies running road races.

Those childhood days began the cycle of shame that I felt and carried into adulthood. I strove to do good, to look good, and to win others’ approval. Receiving approval felt great, like winning road races and receiving a trophy. When I did wrong, I felt shame. I feared no one would like or respect me if they knew what I did. I hid my shame.

Shame and the Past

We all feel shame either from our past or present failures. We see ourselves based on our performance. If we excel in sports, we identify ourselves as good athletes. If we do well at our jobs, we identify ourselves as good workers. In contrast, if we fail, if we make mistakes, if we do things wrong, we identify ourselves as worthless.

What we do or fail to do becomes our identity. When we are successful, we say “I am an excellent runner” or “I’m a talented and gifted problem solver.” When we perform poorly, we say, “I’m no good” or “I’m a failure.”

These thoughts and words have power. We get stuck in a cycle of shame or always aim to achieve. If we succeed, the accolades wear out, and we lose our identity. If we fail, we get stuck never succeeding or feeling good about ourselves. Our behavior becomes destructive.

We’ve all lost our true identity. We are made in the image of God. We are his beloved sons and daughters. That is our identity. We don’t have to strive for acceptance; we are accepted. We don’t have to wallow in shame and regret. Jesus took our shame away when he bore our shame on the cross.

My Shame and Regrets

I admit I wasn’t very patient with God when it came to finding a wife, and I got angry at some of the messages on sex. I heard, “If you wait until you’re married, you’ll have great sex.” Much good that did me as a single. I also heard that sex was a great stress reliever. As a single man in his thirties, I found that message more frustrating than helpful.

I did things I was not proud of while I was single. However, I treated the women I dated with respect because my father taught me and modeled it. I did not pressure women to have sex, nor did I cross the line, and I remained celibate the whole time I was single — but not pure. I never got drunk or took drugs, but I was in recovery groups battling lust.

Healing from the Past

It wasn’t until I was in recovery groups and admitted my faults that the cycle of shame started to break. I could confess to brothers in Christ who had done similar wrongs. They understood and accepted me.

The only thing that breaks the cycle is not willpower. It is not discipline. It is love. My accountability partners loved me. They accepted me for who I am and reminded me that I am still loved by God.

Embracing Our True Identity

In our merit-based world, the truth that we are loved without earning it is almost impossibly hard to accept. But it is our true identity. And it is the only one that doesn’t come undone when the accolades stop and the roles fall away.

I’ll say it again: We are made in the image of God. We are his beloved sons and daughters. That is our true identity.

That is the identity we all need. Not the identity formed by our performance, our failures, or our father’s voice — but the one that was given to us before any of that happened. We are beloved children of God, princes and daughters of the King, created in his image, bought by his Son, being made new.

And then, just when I had stopped striving, God moved.

Moving on from the Past

My past didn’t keep me from getting married, nor did it ruin my marriage. At forty-six, God surprised me. I had given up on finding a wife and even told my parents to stop asking — I didn’t want to raise teenagers in my sixties.

But then… I received an email from a beautiful woman in the Philippines and my life changed forever.

I was not an active member on this Filipino dating site, but I did have a profile because a friend of mine, over a decade earlier, had said that Asian women make good wives. Encouraged by this, I put a profile on the site but left it alone.

When I received the email, I checked out her profile and realized she was a genuine believer and incredibly beautiful. I paid for a membership so we could communicate freely. On our first chat, I prayed with her — that God would lead the relationship wherever He would take it. She was impressed.

Intentional Courtship

Before receiving the email, I had read “I Kissed Dating Goodbye” by Joshua Harris. Regardless of what happened on his later journey, the book changed how I approached relationships at the time. I did not “date” my wife-to-be. Instead, I courted her. I asked her father’s permission to court her — I didn’t know that was also the Filipino tradition. Part of courting her was spending time with her family so they would know me and approve of the relationship. When I proposed, I first asked her father.

We courted entirely online for the first month. During that time, we read 1 Corinthians 13 together and studied it from the perspective that God is love — so how does God himself meet each attribute of love?

One month after that first email, I was assured of our mutual love and affection but needed to meet her in person. I flew to the Philippines to meet her and her family.

We had one week together — one week with her family, in her home, in her world. By the end of it, I knew. I asked her father for her hand in marriage, proposed to Rubilyn, and she said yes. We had an engagement ceremony at her church in front of family and friends. Then I left and waited and waited.

The visa process took a full year. We were engaged but separated by an ocean and a twelve-hour time difference. During that year, we read Tim Keller’s The Meaning of Marriage together — chapter by chapter, long distance. It helped us lay the groundwork for a marriage we hadn’t yet begun.

We married when I was forty-seven. The wait was worth it.

The Past as Preparation

Looking back, I can see that every step of our courtship was intentional — not because I had a perfect plan, but because I was finally paying attention to what God was doing rather than trying to make it happen myself.

The shame cycle, the recovery groups, the long years of waiting — none of it was wasted. God was teaching me patience, humility, and the kind of love that serves rather than demands. I couldn’t have been the husband Rubilyn needed if I hadn’t walked through all of it.

The Past and the Present

Our past shapes who we are, yet it need not confine us to who we were. Through faith and intentional reflection, we can acknowledge our history without allowing it to dictate our future.

The beauty of this truth lies in its freedom. Our past, with all its triumphs and failures, serves as a teacher rather than a jailer. When we embrace faith in Christ’s redemption, we find that guilt and regret lose their hold on us.

We can live fully in each present moment. We are empowered by grace to move forward without the burden of yesterday’s mistakes, as Paul expresses in Philippians 3:13-14. Our identity in Christ transcends the limitations of our history. We can become who we are meant to be.

I wrote a poem about this journey called “The Past” — it captures what those years, and what God did with them, taught me:

The Past

The past is there to remind us
Of who we were in times gone by,
But the past does not define us.

Like a ghost, you can sense its wrath.
Like the wind, you hear its lament,
But it will not hinder your path.

I am what I am in the present moment,
Though influenced by the past —
I am neither its slave nor its servant.

We need to be servants of Christ — but not to earn his favor. His favor and love are given to us freely, not earned. We need to embrace it.

Our past has prepared us for this moment. God works all things together for our good — not despite our failures, but through them. That is the God we serve, and that is the identity He has given us.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” — Romans 8:28, NIV