The Bible opens with a staggering claim:
“So God created man in His own image… male and female He created them.” (Genesis 1:27)
If that’s true, then somewhere beneath every failure and bad decision, there is something radiant in you and in me.
But over time, we learn to cover that image.
We wear masks:
- Religious masks
- Professional masks
- “I’m fine” masks
In a recent Created in the Image of God episode, I spoke with Rev. Jocelyn Jones, author of Breaking the Power of the Mask and founder of Faith on the Journey, a national Christian trauma-healing ministry. Our conversation brought one thing into sharp focus:
God does not reveal His image in us by airbrushing our story.
He reveals it by walking straight through our shame with us.
This is my reflection on what I learned from her.
When Faith Is Just a Script
Jocelyn grew up with loving parents in Chicago who sent her to Catholic school. To make sure the kids weren’t left out, her mother converted to Catholicism.
Outwardly, that solved the belonging problem. Inwardly, not so much.
Jocelyn remembers:
- Kneeling
- Genuflecting
- Saying the right words
…and being bored out of her mind. She even tells a story about going to confession and making up sins because she didn’t know what to say. It was “just religion.”
That’s one kind of mask: religious participation with an untouched heart.
Things changed at a high school Kairos retreat. For the first time, faith stopped being just ritual and became encounter. A seed was planted. But like many of us, she still had to walk through years of compromise before that seed would take root.
The “Ugly Cry” and the 100-Mile-an-Hour Ditch
Fast forward to college.
Jocelyn describes it as her “broken season”: partying, throwing parties, and still trying to keep one hand on Jesus. She started going to Campus Crusade small groups led by a woman named Adrian. To this day, she remembers Adrian’s smile.
One night, a friend invited her to a women’s Bible study. They watched a VHS tape: Juanita Bynum’s No More Sheets, all about soul ties and sexual brokenness.
That’s where the mask cracked.
Jocelyn ended up on the floor in an “ugly cry,” and there, in a simple living room, she surrendered. She decided she didn’t want the wide path anymore—whatever the narrow path looked like, she would follow that.
I recognized the pattern because I’ve lived a version of it myself.
I was baptized at 19. Years earlier, as a non-religious kid in Sweden, I’d had a powerful childhood encounter with Jesus. But as a teenager, my life spun out of control.
Not long after baptism, I found myself the object of a high-speed chase in Alaska—state troopers behind me, speedometer at 100 mph. I ran off the road at that speed and somehow survived.
Sitting in jail afterward, I knew: “If I keep going like this, I’m going to die. Or kill someone else.”
So I made a drastic move. I went to California to study theology—not because I wanted to be a pastor, but because I knew I needed to get as close to God as possible just to survive.
Two different stories. Same pattern:
- Early encounter with God
- Years behind different masks
- A crisis of shame and surrender
- A turn toward the narrow path
We imagine that being “created in the image of God” means we never end up in those ditches. Scripture and experience say otherwise.
Why God Doesn’t Airbrush Your Story
Hebrews says of Jesus:
“Though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered.” (Hebrews 5:8)
And:
“For whom the Lord loves He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives.” (Hebrews 12:6)
We often fall into one of two distortions:
- Condemnation:
Every hardship is God punishing you. - Denial:
Suffering means you lack faith, and God’s job is to keep you comfortable.
Both are masks. Neither is biblical.
As Jocelyn and I discussed, most trauma isn’t something God “causes.” It comes from evil, a fallen world, other people’s choices, and often our own. But again and again, He meets us there and uses those very places to strip away illusion and draw us closer.
He doesn’t edit out the hard chapters.
He redeems them.
The mistakes you wish you could erase often become the places where the mask of self-sufficiency finally breaks—and where God’s image starts to shine through.
Religion, Love, and the Most Dangerous Mask
Jocelyn put her finger on a crucial distinction:
“It becomes religion versus relationship.”
Religion-as-mask is doing the right things for the wrong reasons:
- Saying the right words while your heart is elsewhere
- Performing holiness to impress or belong
- Hiding behind doctrinal correctness to avoid vulnerability
I mentioned in our talk that researchers estimate tens of thousands of Christian denominations worldwide—often cited around 40,000, depending on how they’re counted. Historically, many of them have condemned each other over doctrinal disputes.
But Jesus gave just one visible marker of a real disciple:
“By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:35)
When Jocelyn talks about Adrian, she doesn’t remember her theological footnotes. She remembers her smile and the way she welcomed a struggling college student whose life was still a bit of a mess.
That love—not the mask of perfection—is what drew her back toward Jesus.
We can preach correct doctrine and still misrepresent God if we don’t love. The mask of religious superiority may be the most dangerous mask of all, because it hides our need while making it almost impossible for others to approach us honestly.
From “God Can’t Use Me” to “God Qualifies the Called”
Another mask Jocelyn sees constantly—especially among women she mentors—is the mask of disqualification:
- “I’m not ready.”
- “I’m not qualified.”
- “Do you know what I’ve done?”
She points to Moses at the burning bush. When God calls him to lead Israel, Moses responds with his résumé of inadequacy:
“O my Lord, I am not eloquent… I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.” (Exodus 4:10)
Translation: “Wrong guy.”
As Jocelyn likes to say:
“God does not choose the qualified. He qualifies the called.”
He already knows your whole story—the public parts and the things you’d never say out loud in church. And He still calls.
That’s why Jocelyn’s ministry isn’t just about healing trauma; it’s about helping women turn redeemed pain into ministry beyond the walls: books, retreats, support groups, shelters, faith-based businesses.
She told me about a widow who joined her community, attended her ministry-launch conference, and within 90 days:
- Hosted a grief conference for other widows
- Went from hiding to speaking
- Started planning retreats
The very thing that shattered her life—loss—became the focus of her calling.
Being created in the image of God means your life is not just forgiven; it is repurposed.
Breaking the Power of the Mask
So how do we actually break the power of the mask?
From my conversation with Jocelyn and my own journey, I’d suggest:
- Tell the truth to God.
Stop editing your prayers. He already knows about the ditch and the ugly cry. - Name both sin and suffering.
Own what you’ve done and what’s been done to you—without condemning yourself or trivializing pain. - Look for the seed in the ashes.
Ask: How has this changed what I care about? Whom I can understand? - Listen for the call that flows from your wounds.
The people you can serve most deeply are often those who share your story. - Take one small step.
That may be joining a healing group, writing a page, starting a conversation, or seeking out resources like Jocelyn’s Sister, Start Your Ministry.
I often picture our life with God like a tennis court.
God stands on one side of the net; we stand on the other. Around our feet lie tennis balls—opportunities He’s been gently lobbing our way for years. Most of them we’ve never returned. We’ve been too busy adjusting the mask.
The invitation today is simple:
Pick up the racket. Return one serve.
You are created in the image of God.
That image is not erased by your worst chapters.
When the mask breaks, the image shines.
Sneak Peek: What’s Coming Up on Created in the Image of God
If this resonated with you, here’s a glimpse of what’s ahead in the Created in the Image of God journey.
- Art, Imagination, and the Quiet Work of God
I talk with Andrew Peterson—singer, songwriter, novelist, and founder of The Rabbit Room—about how music and storytelling can quietly point people toward Christ, and why beauty matters in a fractured world. - Faith, Business, and Rethinking Charity
I interview Peter Greer, CEO of HOPE International, on the intersection of faith, entrepreneurship, and poverty alleviation—how seeing the poor as image-bearers changes the way we give, lend, and lead.
Across these conversations, one conviction remains:
You are created in the image of God,
and God loves His creation.
If this piece stirred something in you, I’d love to hear it. Reply with a line or two about a mask you’re ready to lay down, or a place where God has met you in your “ugly cry” moments.
Until next time,
Wade
