Who Am I? Personal Reflections on Identity

As many of you likely know, I have been trudging, sometimes crawling, through a journey addressing my own mental health and the connections it has in regards to my faith. It has often been overwhelming and even at times been going backward. I struggle. Depression and anxiety are real. They are not phantoms which elude people simply because they belong to Christ. They are, however, also not the victors for those in Christ. While I certainly cannot speak for the whole, I can say that for my part, a huge reason for this struggle and why it often gets the best of me is because of my lack of trust in where my identity lies. It is often hard for me, and I assume for many others believers, to be vulnerable about our struggle with trusting the Lord. After all, aren’t we above all people supposed to have everything together and figured out? While this is certainly not the case, it can often feel that way.

At some point, we come to a crossroads. We must respond somehow. It is fine to have moments of weeping, but we must also be prepared to move or stay stuck. I love the way C.S. Lewis puts it in The Silver Chair,

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.” (Lewis 1981, 19).

For me this means being able to understand the why, but the how of I have often been on the wrong side of finding my identity in lesser places. It stems from a few places more than others. I would say that my complex history with finding my identity began in pain. As a child in middle school, I was bullied at times for my weight and physique. One of the good gifts, however, God granted to me was the gift of humor. I learned early on that I could often diffuse or even disarm the sting of painful comments by using a quick wit and wry response. 

I began to develop this persona of a person who on the surface could not be rattled by mere words. I furthered this experiment by openly stating to those around me that I no longer regarded the thoughts anyone had of me. In essence, I was bullet proof to the thoughts, words, or deeds others lobbed at me, at least this was my veneer. I found it easier to have this facade than it was to embrace reality. But, as anyone can surmise, this kind of living cannot be indefinitely maintained, and I was plunging myself into a fantasy of my own making because I thought it would be more painful to acknowledge hurt and pain rather than to duck away and continue placating myself with untruth. This persona I developed is one I would maintain for decades, but what was really happening? I was facing a complex and undeniable reality that internally looked vastly different than what I presented.

I struggled with self-esteem, self-worth, depression, anxiety, and most alarmingly, a huge struggle with codependency. I was in such a trap of caring what people think about me and keeping up a mirage, that I was crippled beneath the weight of it. This brought forth a very real question which I pondered almost daily; who am I? I had grown up in the church and often if I ever voiced such a question (which was exceedingly rare) I was met with Christianese answers like “your identity is Christ” and “just trust the Lord.” While those things are good advice and certainly are true, I found them unsatisfactory. I needed (and still need) to have a reality check on why I was continuing to labor with believing what the Lord says of me versus what the falsehoods I believed. 

For me, I discovered that my struggle did not come from a lack of faith, in fact I had a tremendous amount of faith, but unfortunately that faith was cradled not Jesus, but in others and myself. I was looking to something that can never satisfy, yet I was becoming more and more disquieted with a lack of satisfaction. I think Paul Tripp puts it well when he writes,

“Without knowing it, we put our identity and inner peace in the hands of the people around us. We look to them for what no flawed human being will ever be able to deliver. We ride the roller coaster of their views of us. We begin to do things not because they are right, but because we know they will please those whose opinion of us and acceptance of us mean more than they should. I think fear of man is a bigger motivation for many of us than we tend to admit” (Tripp 2014).

I know this is often true of me. So what is the remedy? Well for me it involves three things: 1. A recognition of who I am, 2. A willingness to be vulnerable, and 3. Living a life that is vertical instead of horizontal.

Understanding who you are is much easier said than done. In fact, if it was as easy as it sounds, then every previous line of text here would be unnecessary. So what am I talking about when I say there is a recognition of who I am? It starts with a worldview. Every person on the planet lives and operates in some worldview whether they realize it or not. These worldviews shape not only the way we see the world around us, but they also are the cornerstone of how we see ourselves. The reason this matters is because your worldview ultimately answers not only the question of if you have value, but it also answers why you value. My value and worth do not come from myself, but rather it comes from being an image bearer of Almighty God. This is significant detail because it reminds me since my value is in Christ, it cannot be in what others think about me. 

Further, knowing who I am reminds me of central truths: I am both irrevocably broken in my sin and perfectly redeemed in Christ. The Latin phrase which encapsulates this is Simul Justus et Peccator, which translates to simultaneously justified and sinner. It is critical to know this because it is a reminder that no person has the ability on their own to right their own ship, but the One who orders all things also gives us infinite value and worth in spite of ourselves. Knowing who I am means others cannot define me because I have already been defined.

Second, vulnerability is required. One of the reasons I struggled (and still struggle) so strenuously with my identity is because I was unwilling to let other people into my life. Now, obviously I have had friends, family, etc., but none of them ever got to see the real me because I was so afraid of the possible consequences. I became obsessed with making sure others only ever got a look at what I wanted them to see, and should things start to become too real, the wall quickly was rebuilt. However, over the last year, I have had to learn to not just act genuine, but I have been forced in many ways to be totally honest about real struggles and problems. I have had to trust other people who care about me, and more importantly I have had to actually face my fears rather than ignoring them. A good friend today reminded me of a beautiful quote attributed to poet and writer, Robert Frost, “The only way out is through.” The harsh truth is that in order to get through, someone has to lead. Either that someone is self, and we have seen this track record amount to failure time and again, or we are being led by the Lord. Only one of those options brings about real understanding in who we are at our core. As uncomfortable as it has been, I am learning that in order for me to truly heal and find peace is to go through my struggles even when it is terrifying, and this requires an absolute measure of vulnerability. Without this, only pride exists and when only pride exists, the road is impossible to travel.

This brings me to my last point, the only way either of the other points work is to live a life that is vertical instead of horizontal. To live horizontally infers that all we live for is what is in front of us directly. This kind of living puts supreme importance on self and is bent on working toward the goal of happiness. The problem is that happiness is an unattainable goal and no matter how much a person receives it will never be enough. Living horizontally also means that we get so enamored and caught up in the things of this life that we see almost no value in focusing on the true prize. Jesus becomes an afterthought, the gospel a clanging cymbal, and future hope becomes distorted. We find ourselves needing the approval of others and focus on making everyone pleased with us. It is an empty and impossible goal. Living this way puts far too much pressure on a person and weight on the back which cannot bear the load. 

To live vertically, however, takes the emphasis off of human beings and self, and rather it reminds the individual that there is more. There is more than happiness, than acting like everything is ok, than pursuing empty things that leave us wanting. We live horizontally because there is an empty promise of satisfaction, and often we miss the true blessing of a vertical life. John Piper writes,

“if you don’t feel strong desires for the manifestation of the glory of God, it is not because you have drunk deeply and are satisfied. It is because you have nibbled so long at the table of the world. Your soul is stuffed with small things, and there is no room for the great.God did not create you for this” (Piper 2013, 25-26).

However, when vertical living is played out, we find our true identity is found not self, but in Christ. 

To live vertically means we cast aside the things we cling to that are not Christ. It leads us away from being satiated by the opinions of others because we realize that Jesus is enough. The Apostle Paul says,

“to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-24, ESV).

Finding ourselves in Christ is the most freeing thing we can do. The strife of always trying to figure out who we are by imitating those around us to gain approval becomes less and less important.

I am in no way trying to act as if I have perfected living this way. In fact, one of the reasons I am writing this in the first place is because I am struggling at this very moment, but I will not be content to rest on old habits or wearing a mask which hides the truth any longer. As I sit here writing, I am reminded that even the most difficult of circumstances are bringing glory to God when we trust in Him. Genesis 50:20 affirms, “ As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Genesis 50:20, ESV). I will close with a favorite quote of mine from the incomparable Charles Spurgeon, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” When we seek and find our identity in Christ, even the hardest moments bring us closer to Christ.

Further Verses for Reflection:

Genesis 1:27; Galatians 2:20; Ephesians 2:10; 1 John 3:1-3; John 15:5; Romans 8:1; Galatians 3:26.

References

Lewis, C.S. 1981. The Silver Chair. New York, NY: Harper Collins.

Piper, John. 2013. A Hunger for God: Desiring God through Fasting and Prayer. Wheaton, IL: Crossway.

Tripp, Paul. 2014. New Morning Mercies: A Daily Gospel Devotional. Wheaton, IL: Crossway.