For much of my life, if you had asked me what my gifts and talents were, I’m not sure I could have given you an answer.

That may sound strange to people who know me today. I coach. I teach. I lead. I connect people. I ask questions that sometimes make people wish I hadn’t asked them. I can see possibilities and patterns that someone standing in the middle of a situation may not be able to see for themselves. But there was a time when I didn’t recognize those things as gifts. They were simply things I did.

Holy Spirit had to begin showing me what had been there all along. Eventually, He led me to life coaching, and suddenly many of the things that came naturally to me had a place where I could intentionally use them to help other people.

That discovery changed my life. But over time I’ve come to understand something else that may be even more important:

Discovering what you’re gifted to do and discovering who you are are not the same thing.

When Being Needed Feels Like Purpose

There is something deeply satisfying about knowing we have made a difference in someone’s life. I love watching someone recognize something they couldn’t see before. I love helping people connect dots, discover possibilities, move through something that has kept them stuck, or begin seeing themselves differently. I love encouraging people and watching them grow because those things are part of how God created me.

But being needed can also feel a lot like being valuable.

When someone comes to us for advice, it feels good to know we have something to offer. When people depend on us, we know where we fit. When we’re the one who can solve the problem, organize the event, lead the group, care for the family, answer the question, or help someone through a difficult situation, there is a sense of purpose attached to it.

And often there should be. God gave us gifts and talents to use, not to hide.

But what happens when nobody needs them today? When the phone doesn’t ring, nobody asks for your opinion, and there isn’t a problem to solve or a person waiting for your help?

Who are you when nobody needs you?

The Gifts Were Already There

One of the things I’ve learned about gifts and talents is that we can miss our own because they often feel ordinary to us. If something comes naturally, we can assume it comes naturally to everyone.

It doesn’t.

What you dismiss as “just something I do” may be part of the way God intentionally designed you.

I didn’t become gifted when I became a life coach. Life coaching gave some of my gifts a professional expression, but the gifts were there long before the profession. They showed up in the way I interacted with people, the questions I asked, the things I noticed, the way I approached problems, my desire to help people see possibility, and my ability to connect people and ideas.

Holy Spirit didn’t hand me a new set of gifts and tell me to go become a coach. He helped me recognize what God had already placed within me and ultimately led me toward a place where I could use those gifts intentionally.

And even now, those gifts don’t belong only to my profession.

Your Mission Isn’t Your Job Title

When we talk about purpose or calling, it’s easy to immediately think about career or ministry.

What am I supposed to do with my life? What is God calling me to do? What is my purpose?

Those are worthwhile questions, but our answers can become too focused on finding the right title.

God didn’t give us gifts and talents solely so we could find a profession that uses them. He gave them to us as part of who He created us to be and to equip us for the mission He has given us on this earth.

That mission goes wherever we go.

Our gifts show up at work and at home. In our marriages and friendships. At church and in our communities. In conversations with people we know well and encounters with people we may never see again. They are part of how we show up wherever God places us.

Our gifts aren’t confined to what we do. They’re woven into how we show up.

A profession may be one place our gifts are expressed. It is not the container that owns them, and it is not who we are.

But Even Your Gifts Aren’t Your Identity

Our gifts matter. Our mission matters. What we do with what God has entrusted to us matters.

But none of those things determine our worth.

For me, before I am a coach, teacher, leader, wife, friend, or anything else I may be to another person, I am Cheri.

And before anything I do for my heavenly Father, I am His daughter.

That relationship doesn’t become more secure on the days when I’m especially useful. I don’t become more valuable because I helped someone see something differently, solved a problem, led something well, encouraged someone who needed it, or accomplished everything on my list.

And I don’t matter less on a day when nobody needs anything from me.

That’s easier to say than it can be to live, especially for those of us who are doers.

Before the Doing

There is a moment in Scripture that I think is beautiful in light of this.

When Jesus was baptized, before His public ministry unfolded, before the healings, teaching, miracles, crowds, and everything that would follow, His Father said:

“This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”
— Matthew 3:17

Before the public work came the declaration of relationship.

Jesus’ relationship with His Father is uniquely His, but I am struck by what this moment reveals about the heart of our Father. Love wasn’t something Jesus had to earn through usefulness.

And neither do we.

Our heavenly Father knows every gift He placed within us. He knows every way those gifts can be used as we live out the mission He has given us. But He doesn’t love us because we’re accomplishing it well.

Serving From Who You Are

I don’t want to stop being useful. I don’t want to stop helping people, coaching, teaching, connecting, encouraging, leading, or using the gifts God has given me. Quite the opposite. I want to use them well.

I believe we have a responsibility to use what God has entrusted to us as we live out the mission He has given us here. I don’t want to bury what He gave me because I’m afraid of somehow finding too much identity in it.

But there is a difference between serving because I know who I am and needing to serve so I can know who I am.

One comes from security. The other asks the people around me to prove my value by needing me.

And that can affect how we show up without us realizing it.

We may jump in when someone needs to figure something out for themselves. We may have difficulty stepping back from a role because being needed there has become familiar. We may feel unsettled when someone no longer needs our help. We may keep saying yes long after Holy Spirit is asking us to release something because we don’t know quite who we’ll be without it.

Sometimes the question isn’t whether we’re using our gifts.

It’s whether we’ve started needing other people’s need for those gifts.

When Nobody Needs You

So what happens on the quiet day when nobody needs your answer, nobody needs you to fix anything, and nobody is applauding what you accomplished?

Can that day still have value?

Can you enjoy the person God created you to be when nobody else is benefiting from what you can do? Can you sit with your heavenly Father without bringing Him a résumé of everything you’ve accomplished? Can you receive love without earning it?

Those questions reach deeper than productivity.

There was a time when I couldn’t see the gifts God had placed in me. I’m grateful Holy Spirit showed them to me. I’m grateful He ultimately led me to coaching. And I’m grateful that today I understand much more about how God created me and how He wants me to show up in this world.

But I don’t want to confuse the discovery of my gifts with the discovery of my worth.

My gifts help equip me for my mission. My mission gives me opportunities to serve. Neither one makes me more loved.

And maybe that’s the freedom in all of this. We don’t have to stop being people others can depend on. We don’t have to minimize our gifts or pretend our work doesn’t matter. We can use everything God has given us wholeheartedly without asking any of it to tell us who we are.

So perhaps this isn’t a question to answer quickly. Maybe it’s one to sit with for a while, especially if being needed has become so familiar that you aren’t quite sure what remains when the need is gone.

Not what do you accomplish? Not what can you offer? Not who depends on you?

Who are you when nobody needs you?