The House that Built Me

The past may shape us, but it doesn't have to define us: childhood lessons, trusting God and finding purpose

#MindsetMonday • 9:53 p.m. Nov. 2, 2026

When I think about the house that built me, I think about more than four walls and a roof. I think about the people, the memories, the lessons, and the experiences that helped shape the man I am today.

There were wonderful moments, difficult moments, and seasons I didn’t fully understand until much later in life. Some memories still make me smile. Others remind me just how much growing I’ve done. I suspect most of us can say the same.

Childhood has a way of leaving its fingerprints on us, whether we recognize them at the time or not. Maybe your memories are filled with joy. Maybe there are experiences you’ve spent years trying to understand. Maybe you’re still searching for the wisdom to make peace with parts of your past.

For many years, I believed the most important lessons from my childhood were about toughness, independence, and learning to stand on my own two feet. Those lessons certainly shaped me. Yet today, when I look back, I see something even greater.

But God.

I can look back now and see God. I can look back now and feel God! I don’t believe God wants us to suffer, but I absolutely believe in a God who refuses to waste our pain.

Maybe the hard seasons taught me to keep moving when life got heavy. Maybe setbacks helped create a man stubborn enough to believe he could rise again. Maybe learning how much a lack of encouragement can hurt is part of why I care so deeply about using my words to build people.

I’m grateful for the people who loved me, the lessons that strengthened me, and the grace that has carried me. None of that means the difficult moments were necessary for God to make something meaningful of my life. It simply reminds me that even our hardest experiences are not beyond His power to redeem!

The older I get, the less interested I am in asking God, “Why did I go through that?” I’m much more focused on asking, “God, what can You teach me from it, and more importantly, what do You want me to do with what You’ve taught me?”

Scars don’t have to become excuses. They can live as reminders of what we survived, but more importantly, as reminders of the God who continues to restore what was broken. They can be evidence that God can take something meant to break you, redeem it, shape you through it, and even use it to serve others.

I’ve come to accept that I’ll need that reminder for all the days God allows me to be here. That’s OK. I’ll continue to learn to trust in Him, lean on Him, and surrender more of my life to Him. I doubt I’ll ever master that, but I intend to spend the rest of my days trying.

I wouldn’t choose every experience that shaped me, but I wouldn’t trade the man God has continued to build through them, either. Maybe that’s the real lesson. We don’t get to choose every season we walk through, but we do get to choose whether we’ll trust God and surrender to Him. Redemption doesn’t require me to call every painful experience good. It asks me to trust that God is greater than anything I’ve walked through.

Maybe you’re still carrying something from your past. Maybe you’re still longing for a breakthrough. What if the next step isn’t finding an explanation for everything you’ve experienced, but learning to trust God with what comes next?

So this week: Don’t waste the hard seasons. Give them to God and let Him redeem them. Then go use what He’s built from those broken places to build somebody else.