Who am I?

My daughter recently had a school assignment where she had to write about her identity—what made her unique.  This is a fascinating assignment and a critical one since I just recently began to understand my true identity.

Abbey brainstormed some ideas about what made her distinctive and what things made up her identity.  Her list included: God, family, friends, sports, food, soccer, drawing, basketball, photography etc. etc.  These are all great things and she is interested in these things partly because of her personality, but is that where she finds her identity?  I challenged her to think a little deeper.  If you had an accident and couldn’t play any sports anymore, would you stop being you?  She looked at me with annoyance.  No.  She said simply—trying not to roll her eyes.  I told her a little bit about what I had learned in the last few years about identity in Christ.   (I’ll share it with you below.)  And while she listened politely, she’s going to have to learn it for herself.  Sadly, I think she would struggle to figure out whom she is if sports were taken away from her. 

Most of us think our identities are linked to what we do—a job or role or hobby—rather than just who we are.  But really grasping our true identity is very difficult.  Several years ago in a bible study, the group was asked to introduce ourselves and tell a little bit about ourselves without saying anything about job or husband or kids or hobbies. 

Ummm, crickets, crickets, crickets. 

You could almost hear people’s brains grinding into action trying to figure out what to say.  What would YOU say? 

I mean, other than my name—Elisabeth with an ‘s’—(which is somewhat unique,) what else do I tell that reveals the true core of who I am?

I mean, after all, I am a wife, a mom, a volunteer, a writer (sort of), and a friend.  But these are all roles I am in.  If all of those things were stripped away, would I still be Elisabeth?  Of course.  But who is Elisabeth??

I feel that true identity is who you are apart from what you do (as I already mentioned).  Each of us is made truly unique on the outside like a snowflake.  Even if you do have a twin or a doppleganger out in the world somewhere, there will still be a slight difference in appearance: a different mole, extra freckles, slightly higher ears or wider nose, different finger prints!  The fact is, there is not a mold for people’s appearances and there isn’t one for identity either.  Your soul is as unique as your fingerprint. 

Okay, so how do we describe our souls?

Over the last several years, I’ve been learning more and more about my identity in Christ and why that is such a secure and beautiful thing.  Here is what I’ve come to realize:

My identity can be summed up as being a Daughter and a Door.

Yep, that’s what I’ll put on my name-tag next time I’m asked who I am.  ;-)    Allow me to explain:

I am a daughter.  I was born that way.  Everyone gets the title son or daughter just by being conceived.  You don’t do anything to get that title.  You just are that.  However, it’s who your parents are that makes you unique. 

When I trusted Christ as my savior, I was born again as a daughter of the One true King.  This is a big deal.  I don’t think we even fully grasp how big a deal it is to be adopted as a child of God.  Yet, here I stand, with His name stamped on my heart and this fact now the most central part of my identity. 

Second, I am a door. 

I figured this part out when I recently read about when Jesus revealed his true identity to his disciples.  (Mark 8).  He told them that He was actually the Son of God and that He had come to save them (by suffering and dying on a cross).  You see, Jesus’ identity was as Son and a DOOR—He’s the WAY everyone could be saved—the DOORWAY back to right relationship with God.

Now, we are not doors in that same way.  (Obviously, we aren’t the perfect spotless lamb who had all the sins of the world placed upon Him so that we could be forgiven.  Obviously, we didn’t die on a cross and obviously, we didn’t rise again as the Conqueror of death by whom everyone else can also live forever.)  WE are not that Person.  BUT, we know that Person and we know that story—it’s called the good news or gospel in Christianese.   Once we believe that story and accept Christ as our savior, we instantly become communicatorsof that story—or DOORWAYS for God’s grace to pour through onto a lost and dying world.

Those two things comprise the core of my Christian identity.  They can’t be taken away.  A daughter (or son) just is and a doorway just is.

However, God also gave me a unique personality and a mixture of settings in which to express this identity of daughter and door.  I like to think of my personality as being like the color, shape, and size of my doorway for the gospel story to come through to others.  Some doors are double doors—open wide, easily letting the story flow out of them like a spring breeze.  Other doors are sorta stuck—difficult to open—only letting the good news out when extremely necessary.  Every doorway is different—some are painted and inviting, some are swinging like a kitchen door—easy and free with good smells wafting out.  Some are sensible, utilitarian.  Some are artsy and elaborate.  Some are brilliantly designed with many bells and whistles.  Some are simpler—old, yet reliable.  Some embrace their identity as a door and can’t wait to open up and let the Story flow through them.  Others forget they are doors at all—they become rusty and confused about the purpose of life as a Christian.

And guess what?  Our roles and careers and hobbies and likes and dislikes make up the setting for our doorway.  The fact that Abbey loves soccer does not mean her identity is in playing soccer,,,it means that her enjoyment of that puts her “door” right in the middle of a soccer team in need of good news.  If you’re a doctor, a banker, or a mechanic these are not your identity either.  I might think that being a mom is my identity, but really, it’s just the setting in which my identity is being used right now.  I picture my particular door, (framed by reclaimed wood, painted joyful yellow, hopefully open wide), set up in a field of friends, family, PTO, neighbors, and Instagram. 

Next time I’m asked about my identity—I hope to have the presence of mind to remember that I am a loved daughter and an open door.

Who are you?