Daughter of God.

Identity is a fragile concept.  As a woman, I've lived my life constantly comparing myself to other women--as far back as some of my earliest memories.  She's thinner than I am.  She's smarter than I am.  She gets more attention from boys than I do.  Oh, and then there's the attention from the opposite sex that competes for my identity.  Am I pretty enough?  Am I feminine enough?  Am I too independent?

This just barely scratches the surface of the hits my identity has taken as a woman.  It's a constant onslaught of pressures to please and compare, to measure up to a bar that's constantly moving out of reach.

Growing up in church and being a part of Christian women's groups in particular, I've heard my fair share of finding-your-identity-in-Christ talks, but the pressures from the world were always louder.  I thought my identity was in Christ--I mean, I was a Christian, right--but I constantly struggled with insecurity and comparison.

I don't know what finally flipped that switch for me.  Perhaps it's been just growing up.  Perhaps it's been having my whole world shaken so that the surface-level things no longer mattered.  I don't know.  But I can now truly say that my identity is in Christ.  There is a freedom and security that comes from that, that is nearly indescribable.  For the first time in my life I like who I am.  I don't have to find my worth in anything but my Father, and He says I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  He delights in me.  Nothing I can do will change His feelings for me.

Finding my identity in Christ frees me to not only love myself, but to love other people.  I don't have to worry about what other people think, because their opinions don't define me anymore.  I no longer have to hide who I am or try to be someone else, because I know my personality and my passions come from my Father, and I am striving daily to be more like Him.  He is who I want look like and who I want to please.

Glimpses.

I often get frustrated with my limitations and my weaknesses.  I've cried out to God on many occasions, begging to know WHY--Lord, couldn't I do so much more for you if I didn't have these chains holding me back, if I were free, if I were whole?

Every time, He's gently reassured me that He is sovereign and that He sees the big picture.  He takes my hand in His and whispers, Daughter, for this moment in time, you can bring me more glory through suffering well than through being healed.  Trust me.  Believe me.

I trust His words wholeheartedly, and His words alone would be enough if that's all He ever gave me. But recently He's chosen to give me glimpses into some of the ways He's using my suffering to bring glory to Himself and to speak into the lives of others.  It's been truly humbling to see and hear of others moved by my faith and my story, because I know that there is nothing good in me other than Him and that I would have lost all hope long ago if He had not sustained me.

Through these tiny glimpses, God is breathing life into me just as He did to Adam in the garden.  He's renewing me.  He's giving me strength to continue to suffer well, even when I don't know what tomorrow holds.  He's saying, Well done, My Child.  Keep striving.  Keep trusting Me.