I’ve come to accept that we don’t become who we are by chance. The person I am today is the result of a lifetime of experiences—some joy-filled acclaims, others marked by challenges, setbacks, and even out-of-control missteps. (That’s a polite way of saying, my stupidity!) Yet each misstep, each acclaim, each moment—has shaped me and continues to do so. This speaks not only to growth and resilience, but to an internal drive to keep moving forward, to learn, and to keep on keeping on.

I am who I am not because I have all the answers, but because I’ve learned to live in the questions—to pay attention to who I am today, and to continually examine, reflect, and seek a deeper understanding of the person I am still becoming.

Over the years, I’ve been a student of life—in factories and boardrooms, at hospital bedsides, at gravesites, in men’s circles, and within and around church life. Like most of us, I’ve worn many hats: spouse, parent, mentor, caregiver, and now, gratefully, elder. But true identity isn’t defined by titles, roles, or accomplishments. It is revealed in how we strive to live each day—with intention, with faith, and with love. And perhaps most importantly, in how we learn to forgive ourselves when we all fall short of our own internal arbiter—especially for painful missteps in the past.

Forgiveness is vital. Forgive others as well as ourselves, and live without the burden of carrying past baggage. And know this: God has already forgiven each of us. Yet forgiveness and repentance are inseparable—turning our hearts toward God, acknowledging where we’ve gone astray, and seeking to live differently. When we truly repent and accept God’s forgiveness, something shifts—it opens space for growth, courage, and even a rediscovery of our own voice.

There was a time I doubted mine. In my youth, I avoided English and literature classes—as a teenage know-it-all, uncertain of my place in the world. I barely graduated high school. Yet, in the unfolding chapters of my life, I was led—by grace, encouragement, and divine timing—into unexpected classrooms and sacred spaces where my “I” slowly began to take shape.

My teenage awkwardness eventually gave way to a deeper knowing and a quiet acceptance that I had something worth sharing with the world—my own small place in it all. Writing became my way of listening—to myself, to others, and mostly to God.

A dear friend once told me, “To choose is to live consciously—to be aware of the space we occupy in the lives of others, and to act in accordance with our best and most deliberate understanding of our place in the world.” That message struck a lasting chord.

I began writing, and sharing in earnest to stay connected during the pandemic, and I continue to write to reflect on who I am today, to share what I’ve learned, and to hopefully offer something of value—not to preach or persuade, but simply to offer: a thought, a truth, a hope.

I write buoyant thoughts to reach across the quiet spaces between us—to connect hearts and minds, to affirm that we are never truly alone, not in our challenges, our joys, or our doubts.

There’s a passage in 2 Corinthians 1:3–4 that speaks to my intention: “Praise be to the God… who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”

That, I believe, is at the heart of my writing today—not advice, not instruction, but the offering of comfort, clarity, and hopefully, a bit of shared light to brighten your day!

I also find deep meaning in scripture. Exodus 3:14, when Moses stands before the burning bush and hears God declare: “I AM WHO I AM.” There’s mystery in that statement—but also freedom. A holy permission to embrace ourselves as we are, even as we continue to grow. To say: This is who I am. And, through past trials and triumphs, I am still becoming.

There is more to come for each of us. And, each new day is a gift.

And I am still learning. Still striving. Still questioning. Still making mistakes—and each new day, still learning from it all. I am still becoming.

What motivates me today is the same spark that stirred me years ago: a desire to stay connected, to give back, and to make a positive difference. If even one sentence, one insight, or one shared memory lightens your load, brightens your day, or helps you see your own experience in a new light, then I have done something meaningful—and that is enough.

As C.S. Lewis once wrote: “We read to know we are not alone.” To that, I would humbly add: I write to know I’m connected and not alone.

And so, I write—with humility, with hope, and with a heart that believes in the goodness of others and the sacredness of our individual stories. I write not because I have arrived, but because I’m still walking—still discovering, still being refined by grace, still learning how to love more deeply and live more fully.

I am who I am—imperfect, grateful, and committed to living with purpose. I share not from a place of superiority, but from a wellspring of experience—forged by mistakes, shaped by faith, and burnished by time.

Each essay, including this one, is in its own way, a prayer. A reaching out. A reminder that truth, shared with humility, becomes a bridge, a spark—and sometimes, even a lifeline.

There is no single formula for a meaningful life, but I believe it begins with paying attention to what stirs your soul, to what makes your heart sing, and to the people and the angel-way-showers God places along our paths.

I write because I feel called to do so. And I continue because, through writing, I continue to discover more fully who I am and why I’m here. Gratefully, I continue walking the winding path of life toward my true essence, a more enlightened and sacred me.

Thank God, I continue to learn. And gratefully, my story is still being written.

My hope is that your “becoming” is filled with joy, connection, richness, and love. ❤️

As always, I encourage you to share this with others in your life.

Blessings—and always with love, Ron

My book, Reflections of the Heart, is available online at Barnes & Noble & Amazon

“Ron Roesler shares reflections that weave grace, gratitude, and hard-earned wisdom—

encouraging all to live with purpose and see each day as a sacred gift.”