I remember the time my husband and I were called into the church school office for a conference about one of our children. There was a problem. It was big. I didn’t know but the administration did. To say I was angry would be an understatement.
And then there was a period when I exercised almost daily for over an hour and got anxious when I missed a day and how it would affect my weight. My kids suffered and so did I.
Even now there are the times when I post a blog or write an article and don’t receive enough feedback on social media to satisfy me. Pitiful.
All of those issues have to do with my identity. My desire was to be the perfect parent and have a perfect body, and be a popular writer.
Those false identities are draining, and unsatisfying, and idols.
Lately, through a series of unfortunate events—or fortunate events—depending on how you look at it, I have come to deeper knowledge of my identity in Christ.
At this point in my life, I receive mail regularly from AARP. Everything on my body is a good inch lower than it used to be. My hair is turning gray, I cringe when I think of wearing heels, and most nights I’m in bed by 9.
And I’m okay with it.
You may be asking yourself, what happened?
Weakness.
You see I used to think God needed me. I thought I was one of His VIP’s. I could write, sing, speak—I was a virtual goldmine of talent the Lord could use. Or so I thought.
Then I moved from my comfortable church family in Florida, to the middle-of-nowhere, North Carolina. My husband and I started an organic farm. We worked hard all the time and lost money.
I continued caregiving for my mother. Isolation and depression set in. I had no friends, no time, and no energy. No one knew I was a writer or a speaker or a singer. I was just the lady who sold vegetable, eggs, and salsa at the market.
Weakness. It has a way of forcing you to your knees. At least it did for me.
And then I pressed into the gospel. JD Greear says, “The gospel is not the diving board into the pool of Christianity, the pool is the gospel.”
I began to search its depths. To explore what it means. To preach it to myself each day. The God of the universe loved me enough to send His Son, Jesus. Jesus lived a perfect life on this sin-soaked earth. He was humiliated, forsaken, abandoned, and finally crucified to pay the debt of my sin.
And then He rose from the grave.
He is my identity! It is not based on how I perform or my social media contacts or even how my children behave. My identity is based on the finished work of Christ.
And it is secure.
Locked in for eternity.
So, when my children fall away, or I gain a pants size, or when I see those new gray hairs, I remind myself who I am in Christ.
I am forgiven, loved, precious, protected, adopted into God’s family. There is a future inheritance waiting for me that is sure and glorious.
And it is not based on my effort.
Hallelujah!
About the Author: Pauline Hylton is a freelance writer/social worker in the hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her debut novel, Growing in Christ-From the Ground Up released in late July. She loves her Lord, her family, and dark chocolate. Not necessarily in that order. More information can be found at paulinehylton.com
