I cannot even explain what I feel: relief, joy, grief, and fear are just a few of the emotions boiling beneath the surface. But most of all, there is the urge to run.
For so long, what I do has been like a piece of clothing to me. Without it, I feel exposed. Now is the time to take a new assessment of who I am and why it matters, but I don’t want to look.
For me, developing an identity in Christ is not so simple as a change of clothes. I feel like Eustace the dragon beside the pool. Allowing God to cut these false selves away is painful. These little trophies, these things I have accomplished in life, are not much. But they feel like all I have.
I know it’s wrong. I know I am exchanging threadbare rags for something much better.
I advise you to buy from Me gold refined by fire so that you may become rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself, and that the shame of your nakedness will not be revealed; and eye salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see. — Revelation 3:18
But for now, I feel like I am out in the world with part of my tender flesh exposed to the elements. The next time I meet another mom I will not be “Katie’s mommy” AND “PR pro.” I will feel the vacancy, the reminder that my identity has been rooted in a frail, temporary role. But that’s okay. I’m looking for something that can stand the test of time. I don’t want my self-worth to come from what I am worthy of . . . that would be horrible. I want the extravagant love of God to define my worth here and forever.