All of my natural life I have drawn my identity from an external source. I don't think that is all that uncommon. When I was a young child, I drew my identity from my nuclear family. I was John and Nancy Crater's daughter, sister to Tim, Leah and Mary. I got a great deal of my sense of importance from the fact that George and Frances Denton (maternal grandparents) prayed for me all of the time. When I reached the horrific, barren plateau of middle school and began drawing my identity from my peers, it was some serious rough going. All I saw in the mirror was a plain-looking girl not nearly as smart as my older brother. I wasn't jealous of him. Actually, I took some of my identity from his successes, as I bragged about him a lot (still do). He was a great example to me of a respectful, obedient child who worked hard. The mirror also revealed someone who didn't dress as stylishly as the popular girls. By the time I got to high school, I had decided that writing was my niche, so I plugged into extra-curricular activities like the yearbook staff. Soon I had a fragile identity based on a spate of accomplishments like a role in a school play, and the honor of being chosen as television anchor at the state's Youth Legislature in Montgomery, Alabama (the capital). I was crafting a resume for college, but these activities were far more than that to me. They were the blueprint to my identity. I did not have a boyfriend, few close friends and felt very invisible at school. It was almost as if my "resume" was the only thing that signified to me that I existed at all.
College was different. I had so many friends and came completely out of my shell. There, my sense of humor became my trademark. I soon began to see myself as the "funny girl." Still not really pretty or very smart, but willing to be silly on a moment's notice.
In graduate school, I focused on the career that was to come. I was my future. In my first job, I hit a terrible crisis of identity. My boss did not like me (I don't blame him, I felt that the world owed me a job). I started to unravel a bit. Just before meeting my husband, I went to the Lord and asked for Him to right my heart and mind, giving me the truth about myself, rather than the lies I had believed for so very long. As a wife, I saw my identity reflected in how my husband viewed me. Since he was out-of-town five out of seven days in the beginning, you can imagine how that went.
By the time I became a mother, I was fully accustomed to building my self-worth and identity on external sources. You can guess the train wreck to come. My sons quickly became my world. That was just fine in the beginning. However, when they began to yearn for independence, straining at the yoke of my over-protection and over-control, my heart was shattered. This brings me right on up to today. I am not an empty-nester. I'm just an empty-cribber! Mid-life has found me without a career and with two kids intent on (and rightfully so) being their own people. I will not be able to take credit for their successes any more than I can wear the mantle of their failures as a mark of my identity. I will have to fly solo. Even if this time in my life had found me with a thriving writing career (as I had always imagined it would), would it be alright for me to say that that is who I am?
As a Christian, I don't think so. Secular psychologists would caution us all to diversify our identities...know ourselves as, for instance, wife, mother, friend, daughter, writer, Christian, volunteer, etc. That way no one facet of our identity carries enough weight to leave us floundering should it fail. I am coming to believe that Jesus only ever wanted us to know ourselves one way, and one way only; as his. I am a child of God, deeply loved and cherished. That is who I am. If I know myself that way, all of my other roles will be blessed by the overflow of my gratitude and my moods will be stable because God does not change. If all of my decisions are based on that identity, they will be good ones. No one area of my life will loom larger than the rest of them, throwing the whole ship out of balance. If seeking and knowing the God I belong to, and understanding that I am His is the center of my understanding of myself, I will be calm in the storm, faithful in the battle. Thank God for his unfailing love. Thank you, God, for never letting go of me as I waded through every season of life, my concept of who I was held on by a thread to things that change and move when, all along, you wanted me to see that who I am cannot and will not change with my performance, achievement, appearance or upon the whims of human beings who will love you in one instant and abandon you utterly in the next.
College was different. I had so many friends and came completely out of my shell. There, my sense of humor became my trademark. I soon began to see myself as the "funny girl." Still not really pretty or very smart, but willing to be silly on a moment's notice.
In graduate school, I focused on the career that was to come. I was my future. In my first job, I hit a terrible crisis of identity. My boss did not like me (I don't blame him, I felt that the world owed me a job). I started to unravel a bit. Just before meeting my husband, I went to the Lord and asked for Him to right my heart and mind, giving me the truth about myself, rather than the lies I had believed for so very long. As a wife, I saw my identity reflected in how my husband viewed me. Since he was out-of-town five out of seven days in the beginning, you can imagine how that went.
By the time I became a mother, I was fully accustomed to building my self-worth and identity on external sources. You can guess the train wreck to come. My sons quickly became my world. That was just fine in the beginning. However, when they began to yearn for independence, straining at the yoke of my over-protection and over-control, my heart was shattered. This brings me right on up to today. I am not an empty-nester. I'm just an empty-cribber! Mid-life has found me without a career and with two kids intent on (and rightfully so) being their own people. I will not be able to take credit for their successes any more than I can wear the mantle of their failures as a mark of my identity. I will have to fly solo. Even if this time in my life had found me with a thriving writing career (as I had always imagined it would), would it be alright for me to say that that is who I am?
As a Christian, I don't think so. Secular psychologists would caution us all to diversify our identities...know ourselves as, for instance, wife, mother, friend, daughter, writer, Christian, volunteer, etc. That way no one facet of our identity carries enough weight to leave us floundering should it fail. I am coming to believe that Jesus only ever wanted us to know ourselves one way, and one way only; as his. I am a child of God, deeply loved and cherished. That is who I am. If I know myself that way, all of my other roles will be blessed by the overflow of my gratitude and my moods will be stable because God does not change. If all of my decisions are based on that identity, they will be good ones. No one area of my life will loom larger than the rest of them, throwing the whole ship out of balance. If seeking and knowing the God I belong to, and understanding that I am His is the center of my understanding of myself, I will be calm in the storm, faithful in the battle. Thank God for his unfailing love. Thank you, God, for never letting go of me as I waded through every season of life, my concept of who I was held on by a thread to things that change and move when, all along, you wanted me to see that who I am cannot and will not change with my performance, achievement, appearance or upon the whims of human beings who will love you in one instant and abandon you utterly in the next.
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