Identity

Because I did not know who I was, any image of myself, no matter how grotesque, had power over me.”

-Tobias Wolf, This Boy’s Life

There are few things more important than understanding who you are. There are so many heart strings we attach from ourselves out into the world and from the world into ourselves. I’m not talking about “the world” as some big bad cultural monster lurking behind every billboard, waiting to lead children astray. I’m talking about the world made up of our parents, siblings, friends, and emotional wounds both old and new. These are the familiar places in the world to which we most often tie ourselves in the hopes of being told who we are. They are the places we receive the names (loser, ugly, unworthy, hero, weak, etc.) we will answer to for most of our lives. These are theidentities from which we unknowingly live. The heart strings we attach to them begin to snag and tangle through the years. Many generations of theologians and pastors say that two of the most important things for us to do is to know God and know ourselves. Knowing one always illuminates and deepens our understanding of the other. Both can be scary when revealed, but we are always better for such knowledge.

I used to walk around like The Fonz because I thought I knew exactly who I was. I regularly looked down on others whom I believed had no clue of their identities and what life was all about. I prided myself on spotting their self-deceit. Because I tasted a small slice of pain and suffering, I thought I understood the way the world worked, as if I had unlocked some secret code to an authentic life. That was, until I sat in a counselor’s office for the better part of two years trying to make sense of my life. I started to smell the large quantities of my own self-deceit I passed off as my authenticity. By God’s grace, I began to see just how little I understood about God and myself. The tangled strings of my identity were slowly unwound, and I saw some of the places where my heart longingly attached itself. I began to see how much I desired power and control after spending most of my life feeling powerless and weak in the presence of those I most wished would love me. I learned that pain can help produce wisdom, but wisdom never demands power and control. Instead, wisdom offers love and sacrifice.

An identity based on such wisdom is not possible through the strength of will and hard work. Identity is always something that is given to us because we choose to be distinguished by it. I began to see how abuse and absence can identify me as something I do not wish to be. And at the end of myself, I found God naming me “son” because of Jesus Christ’s cross. It isn’t self-help, wishful thinking, or being reprogramed. It is understanding that I am the beneficiary of a sacrificial love given to me by the creator of the universe. This identity doesn’t solve all my problems, stop all my pain, nor allow me to float effortlessly through my days. But it does mean that despair is not my future, and I am never left alone. This identity tells me there is more to me than my pain and failures. There is more to me than my achievements and victories. I am not the chief end of this world. Instead, I find myself being welcomed and loved by the creator of the universe. Now I have the opportunity to live a life marked by peace instead of inner turmoil. Rest instead of endless wandering. Love instead of dismissal. That is the strength of identity. It is an identity offered for any who chooses to accept such an overwhelming gift.