That night, each of the six speakers was to give a brief overview of what he or she would be speaking on over the next couple of days. Just before the rest of us went to the podium, our friend, Gary Smalley, captivated the crowd by holding up a crisp $50 bill and asking the massive audience, “Who would like this $50 bill?” Hands started going up everywhere. He said, “I am going to give this $50 to one of you, but first let me do this.” He proceeded to crumple up the bill. Then he asked, “Who still wants it?” The same hands went up in the air.

“Well,” he replied, “what if I do this?” He dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, all crumpled and dirty. “Now who still wants it?” Again, hands went into the air. “You have all learned a valuable lesson,” Gary said. “No matter what I do to the money, you still want it because it doesn’t decrease in value. It is still worth $50.”

Gary’s simple illustration underscores a profound point—even for pastors. Let’s be honest. Don’t you sometimes feel like you have been dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the very people you are shepherding? Or by the decisions or circumstances that come your way? Even pastors are tempted sometimes to feel alone, insignificant, or irrelevant. That’s when we need to be reminded of Gary’s simple lesson: No matter what has happened or what will happen, we never lose our value.

When I (Les) was in seminary, a professor asked a class of more than 50 students dedicated to pastoral ministry: “How many of you have been conscious of God’s love for you, personally, in the past week?” No more than a couple of hands went up. He waited a couple of beats and continued: “How many have been conscious of God’s disapproval of you this week?” Hands shot up all around the room.

How about you? How would you answer that question this week? Perhaps you have already internalized the message that the crowd in Portland heard, and you already have a profound and abiding sense of significance. Maybe you already know at the center of your being, deep down in your soul, that your value is established for all time, regardless of your performance. Your lovability, and thus your significance, is rooted deep in God’s unending love for you. You do not have to work harder, look better, achieve bigger numbers, or win prizes of any kind. You know and live the most important message ever articulated—that you have inestimable worth because you are a creation of the Creator.

Chances are, however, that even if you have experienced this significance at some time, you do not feel significant all the time. Research reveals that while many of us have heard this ancient truth about our worth—and even preach about it on the weekends—most of us, most of the time, do not incorporate it into our own lives. We read the Bible. We preach the message. And that’s that. However, instead of being confident of our significance—feeling it resonate deep within our bones every day—we fall back into the habit of trying to earn it… or at least the approval of others.

Once we find what we are looking for, we relax… but only momentarily. Eventually, the people we are pleasing—whether a parishioner, board member, superintendent, colleague, spouse, friend, or an entire congregation—quit sending us love messages. That’s when we find ourselves back on our endless quest.

Finding the love of your life, for example, is an incredible experience, but it will not ultimately quench your thirst for significance. Neither will having children, as miraculous as that experience is for parents, and neither will becoming famous, writing a bestseller, or building a big church that garners attention. Still, we run restlessly, desperate to find that next person, thing, or event that will satisfy our search. No wonder so many of us can identify with King Solomon’s words, “I have seen all things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind” (Ecclesiastes 1:14, NIV).

In our clinical work, we are astounded and saddened that the majority of individuals we work with never experience their own deep sense of significance. It does not seem to matter how much they believe a set of doctrines, subscribe to a particular faith, or even share their truth with others. The fact is, they feel good about themselves when they do important things, win important promotions or prizes, please the crucial people, and thus earn the right to see themselves in a positive light. As soon as they quit doing, winning, pleasing, and earning, they feel awful about themselves. 

Why is it so hard to embrace the fact that profound personal significance is received, not achieved? Why are we so addicted to trying to prove our value? These questions have haunted the human race for centuries. Part of the answer is found when we tune in to one of the most important conversations we ever have. It’s 24/7. It never turns off—even when we are asleep, we have this conversation—it is our “self-talk.” 

Your internal dialogue is key to learning exactly how you feel about yourself. It is an indispensable tool in learning to let love capture your being. Yet, precious few pay attention to it… and only the most well-adjusted know how to monitor their inner voice for the sake of accepting their own significance.

Your internal dialogue is paramount to personal growth. Self-talk—what you say to yourself and how you interpret that inner discussion—is essential to your well-being. It not only originates in the mind, but it could also be argued that the human mind is self-talk. At the risk of oversimplifying the majesty of the mind, you can think of it as a composition of intricate, internal conversations. The brain is a circuitry of complex communication, relaying millions of messages at any moment. And these messages determine who you are. They have a direct impact not only on your body, but on your spirit as well. Your very personality is defined by your internal messages. 

Do not confuse positive self-talk with happy affirmations—or, even worse, self-delusion. Let’s say you cannot carry a tune in a bucket. You simply do not have much musical ability with your voice. If you tell yourself that if you only try harder you can learn to be a virtuoso, that self-talk would be positive, but flawed. If you were to say to yourself that you are no good at singing, your self-talk would be negative, but not flawed. On the other hand, if you were to tell yourself that you cannot do anything right (because you cannot sing), that would be flawed, overgeneralized thinking.

The best kind of self-talk is not self-hype, nor is it negative, flawed, or overgeneralized. It is logical, rational, and accurate. The best type of self-talk says, “I choose my responses… they don’t choose me.” It says, “No thought can dwell in my mind without my permission.” It says, “My value does not equal my performance.” 

We’ll say it again. You can never live to the fullest or enjoy relationships at their peak until you experience a permanent and profound sense of significance deep in your soul. Only then will you hear a voice that reverberates in every corner of your personality, saying, “I’ve known you from the beginning and called you by name. I knitted you together in your mother’s womb and counted every hair on your head. Wherever you go, I go with you, and I’ll never abandon you or hide my face from you. You belong to me, and I belong to you. You are marked by my love, and you are the pride of my life. Nothing will ever separate us” (Jeremiah 1:5).

Les Parrott, Ph.D., and Leslie Parrott, Ed.D., are #1 New York Times best-selling authors of Love Talk, The Good Fight, and the award-winning Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts. Their most recent book is Healthy Me, Healthy Us. They are also cofounders of the game-changing, online SYMBIS Assessment (see SYMBIS.com). Les and Leslie live in Seattle with their two sons. Visit LesAndLeslie.com. This article originally appeared in Christian Counseling Today, Vol. 24 No. 3. Christian Counseling Today is the flagship publication of the American Association of Christian Counselors. To learn more about the AACC, click here.