Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Identity in ...

Last night at our women's youth group we talked about Romans 12:1-2 and the idea of our identity. Katie challenged us to write down some of the things that we currently find our identity in. I would be very foolish to think that this is an exercise which would only benefit the younger women in our group. It strikes a chord in my heart to realize that even though I am older and wiser than I used to be, I still find a false sense of strength in things other than the identity that God has given to me. So, here are some of the things that I find my identity in right now:
1) My Education and status as an educated person: It makes me feel good to be able to tell people that I went to UCLA and then to Fuller. Often my B.A. and M.A. make me feel more important than the person that I became through my educational experiences.
2) My music: I really should be more specific and say that I often find my identity in my ability as a singer. When people approve of or genuinely like my music and my voice, I feel like they approve of or genuinely like me.
3) My past rebellion and sin: I don't know why but I do feel like I am often able to relate to people in a really shallow way by talking about my past sin, my tattoos, my past piercings, my crazy stories, etc. With some Christians who have had similar experiences it feels like we can relate better if we identify ourselves with our past sin patterns instead of with where we have grown out of those patterns. Also, with Christians who have walked a pretty straight path but align themselves with edgier people, I find myself feeling more valuable to them because of some of my experiences during my more vulnerable and rebellious times.

So there are three things although I know that there are more that I am too tired to dig out right now.

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"What Great Grief Has Made the Empress Mute" June Jordon - Poetess

Because it was raining outside the palace
Because there was no rain in her vicinity

Because people kept asking her questions
Because nobody ever asked her anything

Because marriage robbed her of her mother
Because she lost her daughters to the same tradition

Because her son laughed when she opened her mouth
Because he never delighted in anything she said

Because romance carried the rose inside of a fist
Because she hungered for the fragrance of the rose

Because the jewels of her life did not belong to her
Because the glow of gold and silk disguised her soul

Because nothing she could say could change the melted music of her space
Because the privilege of her misery was something she could not disgrace

Because no one could imagine reasons for her grief
Because her grief required no imagination

Because it was raining outside the palace
Because there was no rain in her vicinity