Predestined?

He Chose Me. And I Walk Around Grinning About It.

It's Me, JUSSKYIA!

Okay. This one is a little different. This one is not heavy. This one is not a wrestling match — well, maybe a small one. But mostly, this one is me just being honest about something that makes me grin so big people probably think something is wrong with me.

God chose me.

Before creation. Before I had a body. Before I had a name. Before I took a breath. He looked at the timeline of human history, and He picked me. And I walk around with that knowledge on my face like I just won something — because I did. Except I didn't earn it. I didn't compete for it. I didn't submit an application. He just chose me. And every time that truth hits me fresh, I light up. I cannot help it.

But let me tell you the journey of getting comfortable with that truth — because it was not as simple as just being happy about it.

The First Reaction: Why Me?

When I first really understood what predestination meant — that God chose me before the foundation of the world, that He is the one who opened my eyes, that He is the one who gave me the ability to surrender my will to Him, that without Him I could not have chosen Him — my first reaction was not pride. It was awe. And honestly, a little bit of unworthiness.

Like... me? You chose me?

I'm not saying that in a false humility way. I'm saying it in a genuine, jaw-on-the-floor way. The God who spoke galaxies into existence, the God who holds the universe together, the God who existed before "before" was a concept — that God looked into eternity and said: I want her.

And then I realized even my reaction — the awe, the unworthiness, the gratitude, the "why me" — that was Him too. He gave me the heart to feel the weight of what He did. He gave me the eyes to see how extraordinary it is. Even my ability to be grateful is a gift from the one I'm grateful to. It is Him all the way down. Every layer you peel back, it's still Him.

I truly believe He knows how many strands of hair are on my head. And when I lose one, He accounts for it. That's how personal this is. That is how specific His choosing is. He did not choose humanity in the abstract. He chose me in the particular. And He chose you — if you are in Christ — in the particular too.

The Part I'm Going to Be Honest About

Okay. So here's where I need to keep it real, because this blog is about authenticity, and I'm not going to fake like I didn't go through this.

There was a moment — and I'm not proud of this — where I looked at certain people behaving a certain way and thought: Mhmm. That's why He ain't chose you.

I know. I KNOW.

And before you judge me, let me tell you — that thought lasted about two seconds before I caught myself. Because who am I? Who am I to look at another person's behavior and determine their standing with the Almighty? Who am I to read God's election roll from the outside? I am not the one who chose. I am the one who was chosen. There is a significant difference between those two positions. The one who was chosen does not get to look at the unchosen with anything other than compassion — because apart from God's grace, I would be standing right there with them.

And that's the thing about election that keeps you humble if you understand it correctly: the choosing was not based on anything in you. It was based entirely on God's will and God's pleasure. Ephesians 1:4–5 says He "chose us in him before the creation of the world" and "predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will." His pleasure. His will. Not your resume. Not your potential. Not your worthiness. His sovereign, unmerited, unexplainable choice.

So if the choosing had nothing to do with my goodness, I have no business looking at someone else's badness and assuming they weren't chosen. For all I know, God is about to reach into their mess the same way He reached into mine. And if He does, they'll be standing next to me grinning just as big.

The Question That Wrestled Me for a Minute

Here's the one that got me for a little while: if God has already chosen who He is going to save, why share the gospel at all? If the people who are going to say yes are already predetermined, what's the point of me opening my mouth?

That wrestled me. Not for long — but it wrestled me.

And here's what was revealed to me: who am I to know? I do not have access to God's election list. I do not know who is chosen and who is not. I cannot look at a person and read their eternal destiny on their forehead. My job is not to determine who will respond. My job is to share. Period. God handles the choosing. I handle the telling. The results are His department. The obedience is mine.

And practically speaking — how did the gospel reach me? Somebody shared it. Somebody opened their mouth. Somebody told me about Jesus. And that person did not know whether I was going to accept it or not. They just shared. And God used their sharing to activate the choice He made before the world began. The predestination does not eliminate the proclamation. It works through the proclamation. God chose me before creation. But He saved me through a person who told me about Jesus at a specific moment in time. Both are true. The eternal choice and the human conversation are partners, not competitors.

Romans 10:14 asks it plainly: "How can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?" The predestination does not make the preaching unnecessary. The predestination makes the preaching effective. When I share the gospel, I am not trying to convince someone against God's will. I am cooperating with God's will. And I don't know which conversation is going to be the one where God opens someone's eyes. So I share every time. And I let God sort the harvest.

Is It Arrogant to Say "God Chose Me"?

This one I've thought about a lot. Because I say it. I say it in conversation. I say it casually. I say it with this big smile on my face. And sometimes I wonder — does that come across as arrogant? Like I'm standing in a room full of people saying "I'm chosen and I don't know about the rest of you"?

Here's where I've landed: no. It is not arrogant. And here's why.

Arrogance is taking credit for something you achieved. Gratitude is celebrating something you received. When I say "God chose me," I am not saying "I'm better than you." I'm saying "I didn't deserve this and I got it anyway and I'm overwhelmed by that." The emphasis is not on me. The emphasis is on the choosing. I am not the hero of the sentence. God is. I'm just the object of a verb that He performed.

Paul said the same thing without apology: "But by the grace of God I am what I am" (1 Corinthians 15:10). He didn't say it with arrogance. He said it with wonder. I am what I am — and it's all grace. That's what I'm saying when I grin about being chosen. It's all Him. Every bit of it. The choosing, the saving, the sustaining, the transforming, the keeping — all Him.

If that makes people look at me like who does she think she is — I understand. But the answer is simple: I think I am a woman who was chosen by God for reasons I will never understand, saved by a sacrifice I could never repay, and kept by a grace I could never earn. And I am going to smile about it. Every single day. Because the alternative is pretending it didn't happen. And I am not about to do that.

What the Bible Says About Election

Let me lay the biblical foundation, because this is not just a feeling. This is Scripture.

"For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight." — Ephesians 1:4

Before creation. Not after you proved yourself. Not after you cleaned up your act. Before anything existed, He chose you.

"For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son." — Romans 8:29

The predestination has a purpose: to be conformed to the image of Jesus. He didn't just choose you for salvation. He chose you for transformation. The destination is Christlikeness.

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit — fruit that will last." — John 15:16

Jesus said it directly to His disciples: you did not choose Me. I chose you. The initiative was never ours. We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). We chose because He first chose us. We responded because He first called. Every move we made toward God was a response to a move He made toward us first.

"No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them." — John 6:44

No one. Not some people have trouble coming. No one can come unless the Father draws them. The drawing is God's action. The coming is our response to His action. Apart from His drawing, we would never come. We could not. The will was bound. The heart was hardened. The eyes were blind. And God — in His mercy, for His purposes, according to His pleasure — opened the eyes, softened the heart, and freed the will. He did that. Not us. Him.

And that is why election produces gratitude, not arrogance. Because the moment you understand that you contributed absolutely nothing to your own salvation — that the choosing, the drawing, the opening, the softening, the believing, and the sustaining are all God's work from beginning to end — you cannot be proud. You can only be grateful. Pride says "I found God." Gratitude says "God found me." And anyone who truly understands election will always say the second one.

The Part That Makes Me Want to Live Right

And here's where it comes full circle for me. The reason I don't want to be a stain on His name. The reason I don't want to live in a way that misrepresents Him. The reason I catch myself and correct myself and pursue holiness even when it's hard.

It's because He chose me.

If some random force accidentally saved me, I might not feel the weight of it. But the God of the universe — intentionally, specifically, before time began — chose me. Looked at me. Wanted me. Paid for me with His Son's blood. Sealed me with His Spirit. And is conforming me to the image of Jesus.

How could I dare want to be a stain on that? How could I call myself a follower of Jesus and then act like I don't know Him? How could I carry His name and drag it through behavior that contradicts everything He stands for?

I can't. Not because I'm perfect — I'm not. But because the gratitude won't let me be casual about it. When you truly understand that you were chosen before the foundation of the world, you don't take it lightly. You don't treat it like a membership card you throw in a drawer. You live like someone who was handpicked by the King of the universe. Because you were.

So Yeah. I Walk Around Grinning.

I walk around with a smile that probably confuses people. I light up in conversations about God. I talk about Him like He's the best thing that ever happened to me — because He is. I share the word because I love it. I fellowship because it feeds me. I study because I can't get enough. And when someone asks me why I'm so happy, the answer is always the same:

He chose me. Before the world was made. Before I took a breath. He knew me, He wanted me, and He came and got me. And I did not do a single thing to earn it.

If that's arrogant, then arrogant is the wrong word. The right word is grateful. The right word is overwhelmed. The right word is undone. Because when you understand what happened — what really, truly, eternally happened — you don't walk. You float. And you grin. And you can't stop telling people about it.

He chose me. And I will never, ever get over it.

It's Me, JUSSKYIA! My Personal Blog— jusskyialifestyle.com Jesus Unveils Scripture Simply