Identity Crisis

"Jesus was about thirty years old when he began his public ministry.
Jesus was known as the son of Joseph. Joseph was the son of Heli." --Luke 3:23 (NLT)

Jesus was known as the son of Joseph.

Jesus was the son of Joseph, but he was more than that. He was the Son of God. Everything he did was rooted in the knowledge of who he was and why he came to earth.

At the risk of sounding completely petty, I confess that I'm feeling jealous of Jesus this morning. He knew who he was. Me, I'm having an identity crisis.

This last week or so, I have really been struggling with my new surroundings and the lack of definition they give to my life. In conversations with different friends back in San Antonio, I have tried to put my struggle into words and failed miserably..."spinning and twisting in the wind, off balance, cannot gain firm footing, no frame of reference."

My relationship with God has shifted, as well. God hasn't changed, but my ability to relate to Him has. It is all connected to the crisis that is taking place within my soul. He listens and He waits but I am too disoriented to connect well with Him.

All of this twisting in the wind has forced me to take a long, hard look at myself. Who am I? I'm God's daughter. I'm Marty's wife. I'm Andy, Claire, & Mitch's mom. I'm a friend, a prayer partner, a fellow journeyer, a watchman on the wall.

Each of those titles describes a role that I play within God's Kingdom. Over the years, I have become comfortable in these roles. I realize that I have secretly taken great pride in being seen by others in such a way. Too much so.

So here I am, in the middle of an identity crisis. Stripped of my familiar routine. Stripped of my endless opportunities to serve. Stripped of familiar neighbors, friends, church, and schools. Stripped down to the basics: God and family.

Our move is a gift of freedom from God. Deep inside, I know this. I am free from past constraints placed upon me by others. I am free from the constraints I had placed upon myself. I am free to start over. I am free to be a more exact likeness of the person He has called me to be. I know these things. And someday, soon, I plan to walk in that freedom and revel in its beauty.

But for now, I just feel naked and vulnerable.

Abba, Let all that I am wait quietly before You, for my hope is in You. You alone are my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My victory and honor come from You alone. You are my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. Help me to trust in You at all times. (Psalm 62:5-8). In Jesus Name, Amen.