I found myself perusing the internet the other day, looking at new business cards. I could create my own, I envisioned, and they’d be simple, in loopy cursive writing, with “writer and speaker” as my defining subtitle in a delicious teal color. I’d support an etsy artist – because I’m hip and organic and local like that – and surely if the card says it, then I’ll start living the dream. I wouldn’t buy too many of them – maybe just a 100 to start – but I mean, I need to have something to hand out to people, something to prove that I’m worthy because I have a job.
I quickly “X”-ed the screen closed, and then slowly, thoughtfully began closing my laptop cover. The questions seemed to scream at me: What’s my deal? Why is my identity so closely tied to my job, or lack thereof? And why the hell am I so scared of just being me, of living life without an official job title to boot?
My worthiness is not tied to my job – or lack thereof. Or choice there of. My worthiness is not tied to a paycheck, nor is it made any shinier via a Linked In account.
My worth is in Christ. My worth is in what God thinks of me.
And what I’m doing – and being – in this year of new beginnings is enough.
I think this is going to be my mantra, set over and over again on the Repeat button, for the next several months. Or years, or lifetime, give or take.
If I were speaking to a group of middle school kids at camp, this would be the climatic moment of the talk, for identity is everything to a 13-year-old. Who am I? Where am I going? And who are my friends? Those are the questions every middle school kid is asking. And so, in that point of talking about one’s identity, I’d say to them, “Your identity is not in the clothes you wear or the friends you have. It’s not in the sports you play, or if you’re the last one picked for the team. Your identity is not in the grades you get, or in whether or not you have a boyfriend right now – but your identity is solely in what God thinks of you. And you know what? He. Thinks. You’re. Great.”
Yet somehow, when the tables are turned, I have a hard time all the way believing it myself. I believe! No wait – help thou mine unbelief…
Up and down, in and out, belief and unbelief.
So do I have a resolution this New Year’s day? Uh, not buy business cards. But really, begin to believe and live and trust Truth.0