I Lost My Identity. Or was it Stolen?

I don’t know what to tell you or how to tell you. You’re here to hear what God taught me this week. What he taught me is strange to share because he highlighted the broken without providing clear paths for healing, but this blog is honest, so I will tell you. And if you would be so kind, I would appreciate your prayers, for prayers are the only things to bring change.

God taught me three things:

1.      My identity is in boys.

2.      My identity is in work.

3.      I don’t pray enough.

I like to think this is not the case. I like to think Jesus is my identity, but when I realize the boy I’ve crushed on for over a year is interested in someone else and it sends me into dark places which tell me to tear the Bible into pieces and other violent and foolish things, I know it is a problem.

And when I drive home at least once a week on the verge of tears because I am exhausted, and have been exhausted since week two of the semester, but know there is nothing I can take out of my schedule, for I refuse to take out church, bible study, discipleship group, running, sleep, work (the one I get paid for), the commitments I’ve made for this semester, eating, showering, brushing my teeth, and the commute from my house to all of the things I do, I know it is a problem.

And I suppose I know how to change this. There was a time in my life, last semester, when I was exhausted. And every night I worried about the day to come, and every night I went before God and said, “King Jesus, you are the spring of living water. I am the well that ran dry six days ago. Would you please fill me and pour through me? The work I am doing is for you, and I don’t have what it takes to complete the task. Would you please complete the task through me? Would you please change my heart and give me love? Would you please change me that I may be excited for your work and filled up by your work instead of drained and exhausted by your work?” 

And I found that every day when I turned to Jesus to fill me, he did. And now I am finding that when I don’t turn to Jesus, but turn to everything else, I am indeed left dry. I am left brittle. I am left in pain for I cannot do the work required of me. And I tell other people to pray, but though I once prayed, I have stopped. 

It’s a lesson I’ve already learned. I often feel as though I am on the verge of catching a cold. My throat often feels like it’s beginning to get sore, and my head feels on the verge of aching. So I go to bed and pray, “King Jesus, please heal my body.” And I wake up well. And this goes on and on. I continually feel almost sick, so I pray. And my body gets better every time. And then I get tired of fighting off the sickness through prayer and wonder if prayer was really doing anything all along. Maybe I wasn’t even getting sick and all I needed was a good night’s rest. So I stop praying. And I find myself genuinely sick.

So when I pray, I am well. When I don’t pray, I am sick. And I suppose this truth transfers over into all areas of my life. I just need to take it seriously and put it into practice daily. Even though it’s exhausting.

Things to pray for:

That I would make healing a priority and set time aside for it.

That God would enter the deepest places of my heart and plant truth there to grow into a beautiful tree that never doubts were my identity is.

That God would give me courage and opportunity to share the gospel at work and everywhere.