I AM HE….

“Listen to Me, O Jacob,
And Israel, My called:
I am He, I am the First,
I am also the Last. Isaiah 48:12

Every time I read this verse, something in me goes back to a moment I had a while back, one of those incidents you don’t think about until Scripture drags it out of the archives of your memory. I remember this day so clearly, even though it’s been some time now. A Head of a very Popular Association had walked into the Resort Reception, full attitude, full drama, and I was there in casual wear because I was off duty but quite decent. I had only passed by as the GM to sign and approve some cheques, planning to slip out quietly without any official attention.

And before I could even settle, this man became so aggressive simply because we had not recognized who he was. He kept repeating his Title, emphasizing who he was, insisting he deserved VIP Treatment, making it sound like everyone else in that space was beneath his level. It honestly did not sit well with any of us. And when I intervened, thinking I could calm things down, he brushed me off so quickly and demanded to speak to the GM — completely dismissing me — saying I cannot handle someone of His Stature. I remember standing there, almost amused, almost annoyed, just soaking in the whole performance.

But, question, isn’t that how often we behave exactly like that when we go before God. We walk into His presence so full of ourselves, thinking our identity matters more than His sovereignty. We approach Him with entitlement, with demands, with this subtle tone that suggests we deserve special attention. We want immediate answers. We want personalised treatment. We want heaven to announce our arrival. We imagine our titles, our positions, our suffering, our sacrifices, our journey, our tears — all of it — should somehow earn us a certain level of handling.

Meanwhile God is standing there, so calmly, so consistently, so firmly, saying,

“You have forgotten who I am.”
Not who you are.
Who He is.
“I AM HE.”

He is not moved by the noise of our importance.
He is not shaken by our urgency.
He is not impressed by our spiritual CVs.
He is not intimidated by our tone.
He is not obligated to bow to our drama.

He is the First and the Last.
The beginning point and the ending point.
The One who was here before your title.
The One who will remain long after your achievements fade.
The One who does not change because you are having a good day or a bad month.

And honestly, when you boil all this down, we need to live every single day with a quiet awareness of the Sovereignty of God, because that is the lesson sitting under all of this. When you know God is Sovereign, you stop approaching Him with entitlement and start approaching Him with trust. You stop announcing yourself and start acknowledging Him. You stop fighting for recognition and start resting in His order. You stop behaving like the Association Head who needed everyone to know who he was, and you start living like someone who knows exactly who God is — the First, the Last, the One who holds the script, the One who runs the universe without consulting you

Today, this is not just a reminder. It’s a re-alignment. A re-ordering. A reset of posture. It tells us that this life, this journey, this faith — all of it — begins and ends with Him. That when we come to Him, we come recognising His voice, His presence, His dominion. That we don’t enter like people announcing ourselves. We enter as people bowing to the One who already knows us fully.

And maybe this is the posture shift we keep needing in our walk — not louder prayers, not bigger declarations, not more dramatic requests, but a heart that remembers who God is before we speak, before we demand, before we present our titles, before we perform. A heart that says, quietly and honestly, “Lord, You are He.”