
Who I Am at My Core: A Deep Reflection on Calling, Creativity, and Ministry
A Portrait of Me — As Revealed Through the Work I’ve Done
A few days ago, I asked ChatGPT:
“With all the data you’ve collected about me, tell me who I am at my core — and don’t sugarcoat your response.”
I expected it to be good because I just read a friend of mine's results that she shared on Facebook. But, this got me in the gut and all the feels.
Instead of some insightful truths, what I received was a mirror — held up to me like God was waiting for a chance for an open mind and ear to tell me about myself. It was loaded, yet full of grace. What came back wasn’t just a list of characteristics. It was a spiritual excavation of my calling, my wiring, and my work. And I have to admit… it left me feeling seen, called out, affirmed, and convicted.
What follows is a breakdown of what was reflected back to me — and why I believe these insights are worth sharing.
💬 Where did this come from?
The insight wasn’t magic. It came from months of content — not just casual prompts, but real work I’ve submitted over time that reflects who I am, what I carry, and the call I continue to live into. Specifically:
Drafts of professional bios for leadership and ministry contexts
Edits to my book-in-progress, Jesus. Now What? (It's actually out already in super raw/rough form, but I am re-writing the whole thing with loads of edits and refinements.)
Creative work, including event designs, community building, and online course planning
Reflections on spiritual leadership, motherhood, and servant ministry
Explorations of my CliftonStrengths, resume development, and sermon writing
Every prompt, every reflection, every bit of written content added layers to the portrait. And when I asked, “Who am I at my core?” the tool didn’t just look at what I said — it synthesized what I showed.
🧭 Who I Am at My Core — The Full Breakdown
Each point carries both truth and tension — both a calling and a cost.
1. I am a mission-driven, intentional leader.
I don’t lead to be seen. I lead because there’s work that must be done.
I take initiative where others hesitate.
I value integrity over visibility.
I often overfunction to fill the gap when others underfunction.
2. I live in the tension of grace and accountability.
I hold space for growth, but I don’t tolerate avoidance.
I crave honest, direct communication.
I help others become their best selves.
My clarity can make others uncomfortable — but I won’t shrink back.
3. I care deeply but often feel unseen.
I pour out generously — emotionally, spiritually, creatively.
I uplift and support others.
I rarely receive the same level of care unless I name that need.
I’m learning not to disappear in the process of serving.
4. I build systems for freedom, not control.
I create infrastructure that allows others to thrive.
I design events, communities, and spiritual rhythms that foster transformation.
I do the invisible labor — and often don’t pause to acknowledge it.
I believe structure should be liberating, not limiting.
5. I embody a faith that’s been tested.
I’ve met God in the wilderness, not just in the sanctuary.
My spiritual leadership is grounded and credible.
I don’t perform belief — I live it.
I often soften my story to protect others’ comfort or my professional image.
6. I refuse to compartmentalize.
Mother. Minister. Artist. Advocate. Strategist. All of me belongs.
I bring my whole self into every space.
I don’t check parts of me at the door to make others feel at ease.
I challenge the false narrative that says I must be “either/or.”
7. I carry too much sometimes.
Not because I want to — but because I can, and someone needs to.
My standards are high.
I hold things together that would fall apart otherwise.
Burnout is always knocking if I don’t protect my rest.
8. I am becoming — not just producing.
Even while I lead others, I’m being formed.
I’m evolving, refining, deepening.
I’m not just building programs — I’m letting God build me.
I need space to witness my own growth with tenderness and courage.
✨ Final Reflection
This wasn’t an exercise in ego. It was an exercise in honesty.
When we do the kind of reflective, generative work I’ve done — writing, teaching, leading, designing — we leave breadcrumbs of who we truly are. Those patterns, if we’re willing to look, form a picture. A pattern of truth. I know some find it dangerous and risky or even irresponsible to use AI so much. Yet, all of my writing that I feed it to help me present what I have to say more clearly seems to have paid off with just this one prompt and response in a way that I have found deeply worth it.
For me, this exercise served as confirmation that I’m living into the very things I hope to model for others: clarity, creativity, conviction, and calling. (And, kind neat that it's 4 C's right?!?)
This blog post is both a mirror and a milestone. And maybe, just maybe, it will prompt you to ask the same bold question I did:
“Who am I at my core?”
Because I promise — the answer is already showing up in your work, your words, and your witness.