Identity

I've had some quiet time this week for reading, and decided to pick up one of my favorite books: "Conformed to His Image," by Kenneth Boa. (Don't you just love that title?).

This book was originally a school assignment, but I soon found that I wanted to read through it much faster than the class allowed. Thus, last year I read through most of it, well before the class was finished. As is true with most of my favorite books, however, I read through them and then discover them anew at some other point in life.

Currently, I've stumbled upon a book-marked page that outlines dozens of promises in the Bible that a believer can cling to when establishing an identity in Jesus Christ. The page was hurriedly marked with a page torn from my moleskine journal, apparently a section so important that I was afraid its significance would be lost if I did not mark it right that moment. I find lots of my books marked this way.

I picked up the Sunday paper this evening and perused the "Ask Miss Manners" section; a reader wrote in and asked M.M. what the difference was between and "ego" and healthy self-esteem. I admit that I scanned her answer, because I soon saw the usual jargon and humanistic lingo.

I am so thankful that I've found true meaning and identity in Christ, and while I think we should always strive towards improving ourselves, knowing simply that His death and resurrection is enough to make me whole again is comfort in itself. It's sort of like that feeling you get when someone, or something, inspires you to stretch yourself that extra inch towards excellence; you do it not out of fear or out of inadequacy, but rather out of love and the desire to reflect, oddly, a small part of something beautiful that you saw in the other person or thing that has brought so much richness to your life.

I went to church today and I'm continually humbled by and reminded of how wonderful my church family is. I spent the afternoon running a couple of errands, including a trip to Lowes for some hardware I needed for a project. I met up with a friend later to help him finish his personal statement for a scholarship application; I'm finding that having the chance to write is deeply meaningful to me, and especially when I know others will read it. Two cups of coffee and a few hours later, laptop batteries draining, it was nearly finished. I don't know if I have any particular talent or gift, but thankfully my livelihood does not rely solely on my writing skills.

I went running tonight and now my legs hurt- groan.... I need to be more careful next time.

I am wondering, guarding, and, strangely, peaceful. My hands are full right now, and I pray that, even through my stubbornness, He will slowly and gently pry these things from my fingertips.