Mile Marker One: Identity
…where I begin and will end…discovering--Who is the person God made me to be?
She was a young maiden when she died. Not a literal death, mind you but a shadow of death, nonetheless. She decided that to live up to the name that God gave her was too painful. It hurt to care, to feel, to trust, to risk, to dream, to be pure, to be innocent and honorable--so, the little girl slept and the coma was deep. She lost heart. She lost herself. She lost her name.
Her parents named her Cynthia at birth, but God knew her before she was in the womb. “The Lord has called me from the womb, from the body of my mother He gave my name.” Jeremiah 1:49. God named her Talitha, which in Hebrew means lamb. Was it God’s plan for the lamb to land in the lion’s den? How could a lamb last without a shepherd, and how could she survive a lion’s lair?
She scraped by, nearly a dozen years before she agreed with the adoption. Once curly white wool, gave way to a lion’s mane.
As she lived among the lions, a faint echo whispered, persisted on the wind--it spoke of bountiful lands, green pastures, still waters. However, the echo rarely reverberated into sound, what C.S. Lewis called, the secret signature of the soul.
The energy drain of survival never allowed her to know her soul, let alone its signature.
But now and again, a shade of green pastures swept through her memory, whispering her given name. She felt her name in the most alarming ways--a tear drizzling down her cheek, a sad story. That name hurt too much, and she ran from the echo. She ran to compulsions, workaholism, multitasking-- reading, any busyness would do.
But then one day someone saw her, really saw her and called to the lamb.
I am a lion, she insisted. But, He saw through her every protest and would not give up.
“She is not dead only sleeping. Talitha, which is translated, little girl. I say to you arise from the sleep of death and instantly the little girl got up and started to walk around.” Mark 5:39 -42a.
His whisper drew her from her coma…are you ready to get up and walk around?
What false identity have you taken on? How long since you lived up to your name? Do you even know your name, or have you accepted the world's adopted name? You ran for cover, you hid, you were afraid. Have you ever stopped to think that your hiding has been God means to your being found?
“Things are hidden temporarily only as a means to revelation. For there is nothing hidden except to be revealed nor is anything temporarily kept secret except in order that it might be made known.” Mark 4:22.
I praise you Father who matter where I hide you were waiting there to find me.
1). If I asked you to describe yourself, what would you say?
2). Write about your family of origin, your relationship to Mom, Dad, siblings--any issues there?
3). If you have taken a false identity, pretended to be someone you aren’t, write about it. How much pretending and hiding do you do and who do you do it with and why?
4). Do you believe that God sees you, wants your best? Or perhaps He is another unpleasable parent…write about that, confront your feelings about God.
5). Action step: find someone whom you admire, who you think “has it together.” Ask them how they got there and if you have the courage ask them how they see when you.