The identity of me…
I have seen grace extended in my life that I did not deserve. Moving through time, I have walked down a lot of empty roads. Searching for my way back to the garden. Often at the pain and expense of those closest to me. It hurts to ponder on the past. But without acknowledgment of who I was, I would be blinded by their impact on my life now.

When you are in the world, you don’t know it. You are asleep in the matrix and simply follow the path of least resistance most days. Before I got saved, I would stop and look up at the stars, pondering if there was some unseen purpose to it all.

I mean, this couldn’t be all there is, could it?? Always feeling that
emptiness inside. That hole in my heart, that I could not seem to fill no matter what mask I chose to wear.

Oh, the masks I have worn on this journey to find the real me.

Hiding away from the world,
the delicate boy who was inside.

What if they saw who I really was??

Oh, the times I gave my life away, trying to prove my worthiness to a world that did not care. Investing the gift of my life in dangerous things. Placing it all on the line for nothing.

Looking back, I see now how many times God was long-suffering on my behalf. How many times could he have passed judgment. And now the realization: if he had I would have been found guilty. I deserved every bit of wrath. I earned it.

Now, though, when I read the Bible, I understand when it says. “He commendeth His love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
When I was at my worst, He was at His best. It had to be that way. So, when saving grace came my way, I would know that it came through no power of my own.

It’s been fourteen years since I gave my life to Christ. And in that time, I am still finding my identity. Working to find out who I am supposed to be in Him. In my quiet time, I find Him in His Word.

He is not interested in the masks I wear.

Oh, how I wish I could say that in the past tense. I want to shed the masks. But from time to time, I still put them on. Maybe not as often as I used to. I am grateful for that.

My heavenly Father growing me, as He raises the scared little boy into a man.

So much of who I thought I was has been chipped away.

Burned away in a fiery bush on the front lawn of my heart.

A constant work of the father to bring a son to a place of usefulness.

God’s desire is for me to be useful for His kingdom and His purpose.
But the climb is one of obedience. Not of strength. I can only accomplish the things He has set before me in the power of His will. Not my own.

There is no room for masks, or the man I pretended to be.

God loves us, but He hates our pretense. Our games.
Oh, the games we play in His name.
Yet, there is grace to grow.
And in my growth, I must mature. I must find my identity in the man God has called me to be. Looking back down the roads of my life, I see how far He has brought me. Yet, I know there is still a long way to go. Therefore, I let go of preconceived thoughts of what He is calling me to, or the places He would have me go. I search out instruction from the Holy Spirit.

God will direct our paths if we listen to that still, small voice.
And He talks ever so slightly to us. He wants our full attention to that voice. He wants us to be still in our lives so that we can hear it well.

Truth is, I do not fully understand who I am to be in Christ. But I am excited to find out.
A man who is stronger, kinder, and more full of love. I know he’s out there in my future.
I can’t wait to meet him.
Or, better yet, to become him.
I have found out through Christ that the true identity of me, is still yet to be.

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