Day 1: Named On Purpose

Scripture: Luke 1:60

Everyone in the room expected this baby to carry his father’s name. That wasn’t rude. That wasn’t controlling. That was normal. It was the safe choice. The predictable choice. The choice that kept the family line clean and the expectations clear. Naming him Zechariah Jr. would’ve said, “We know where this story is going.” It would’ve fit neatly into the boxes everyone already understood.

But God steps in and says, “No.”

Not because family doesn’t matter. Not because tradition is evil. But because this child isn’t meant to carry the story forward. He’s meant to announce that a new one is beginning.

John gets a different name because he has a different assignment.

His name means “God is gracious.” And from the moment people spoke his name out loud, they were declaring the message of his life: God hasn’t forgotten you. God hasn’t moved on. God is still gracious.

Before John ever opened his mouth... Before he stood in the Jordan… Before he called anyone to repentance…His name was already preaching.

And that tells us something incredibly important about how God works.

In the kingdom of God, identity always comes before activity. God tells you who you are before He tells you what to do. But we love to reverse that order.

We try to serve our way into significance. Work our way into worth. Prove our way into purpose. And when you don’t know who you are, everything you do turns into striving. You hustle for approval. You chase affirmation. You measure success by applause.

But when your identity is settled, when you know who you are and whose you are, obedience stops feeling like pressure and starts feeling like peace.

John didn’t spend his life trying to become someone. He spent his life pointing to Someone. That’s what happens when identity comes first.

Application:

Ask yourself honestly: Where have I been living out an identity others handed to me instead of the one God has spoken over me? Write down one label you’ve been carrying that God never gave you. Then release it. Literally cross it out, and pray over what God says is true instead.

Prayer:

God, I confess that I’ve often let other voices define me. Remind me who I am in You. Strip away every false label and help me live into the identity You’ve already given me. Amen.

Day 2: An Arrow, Not The Target

Scripture: Luke 1:76

John understood something early on that takes most of us a lifetime to learn: his life had direction.

He wasn’t the destination. He was the sign pointing toward it.

He wasn’t the attraction. He was the arrow aimed at Someone greater.

And arrows don’t exist to be admired. They don’t stop midair to see who’s clapping. They don’t check their engagement numbers before they get released. Arrows exist for one reason: to be sent.

They don’t draw attention to themselves; they direct attention to the target. And the clearer the direction, the more effective the arrow.

That was John’s posture from day one: Look at Him. Follow Him. Don’t stop with me.

And here’s the part that messes with us: that realization is actually freeing. When we finally accept that we’re not the point, the pressure falls off. We can stop performing for approval. Stop striving to be impressive. Stop trying to build a kingdom with our name on it.

Because if we’re not the point, we don’t have to carry the weight of being impressive.

Our job isn’t to wow people. It isn’t to collect applause. It isn’t to manage an image. Our job, our calling, is to point clearly.

And when our life points clearly to Jesus, it succeeds… whether anyone notices us or not.

Application:

Where is your life currently pointing people? To you or to Jesus? Look for one opportunity today to redirect the attention, credit, or spotlight toward Him instead.

Prayer:

Jesus, let my life be clear and uncluttered. Make me an arrow that points straight to You, no matter the cost. Amen.

Day 3: Decreasing Is Freedom

Scripture: John 3:30

When John said, “He must increase, but I must decrease,” he wasn’t being poetic. He was being prophetic. He was being honest about the cost.

Decreasing wasn’t a cute phrase for John. It was a real-life decision. It meant fewer followers showing up at the river. It meant people leaving him to follow Jesus. It meant less influence, less attention, less control.

And if you keep reading his story, it eventually means less freedom. A prison cell. A shortened life.

BUT... it also meant more joy.

John wasn’t bitter. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t scrambling to hold onto relevance. Why? Because he knew who he was, and he knew who he wasn’t.

Decreasing isn’t erasing yourself. It’s surrendering yourself. It’s not pretending you don’t matter. It’s deciding you don’t need to be at the center.

And life really does work better when Jesus is in His rightful place. Our anxiety drops. Our striving slows. Our joy deepens.

Jesus said it Himself: What you try to save, you’ll lose. But what you lay down for Me… I will redeem.

John believed that. Lived that. Died with joy because of that. And the same invitation stands before us today. Not to shrink into nothing, but to step into freedom by surrendering control to the One who’s always been the point.

Application:

Identify one area where you’ve been holding on too tightly to control, recognition, or comfort. Practice intentional surrender today by choosing obedience over convenience.

Prayer:

Lord, I want You to increase in my life. Teach me to trust You enough to let go. Amen.

John’s life throws a question straight at us, the same one the crowds were asking all those years ago: Who will you be?

Not the loudest voice in the room. Not the main attraction. Not the point that everyone points to when they tell the story. Those are easy traps. Easy ways to chase significance. Easy ways to confuse applause with approval.

But maybe… just maybe… God is calling you to something different. Not to be the headline, but the arrow. Not to be the attraction, but the signpost. Not to be remembered for what you’ve done, but for pointing people to Him.

A life that quietly, consistently, and faithfully says, “Look at Him. Follow Him. He’s the One.”

And that’s the invitation of Christmas. It’s not about finding yourself. It’s about beholding a King.

It’s the freedom of following Jesus, the freedom to stop performing, stop striving, stop competing for the spotlight, and start living a life that really matters because it’s aimed in the right direction.

That’s the kind of life that changes everything. That’s the kind of life that lasts. That’s the life John invites us into.