This post was written a little differently. The question I ask below was one that I asked while still living in Africa. Almost a year ago. Below it is the answer. Given last week.
Question. Where does my identity lie? I have been asking myself this lately. Actually within the last hour or so but still I believe my heart has silently being asking for a while. More specifically since it knew that its time here in Africa was coming to an end.
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You know I never did answer that question before I left the sun swept plains of Africa. Or actually my lovely little Nile riverbed to be more exact. Now almost a year later I still don't have an answer. Where does my identity lie?
I can see myself. There in Africa. Sitting up in Dr. Tim's and Mama Janice's. I was probably looking out at RG. Watching the workers lay stones for foundations. The graceful women slowly meander back and forth from the garden to the bean thatching house. Bending ever so slightly from the loads a top their heads. Hearing. Seeing. Laughter and Ayahs. Go up all around me from little mouths. Hurrying to finish chores so they might play before supper. Yes I can see myself. All full of mixed emotions. Deep in self-reflection. Wondering. If my identity was in Him. Somehow already knowing.
Though the answer was there. I wondered. Him? Or. Was it tied up in the scenes around me? Did I feel closer to Him. Did I feel okay and comfortable and safe in my relationship in that moment because of Him. Because of forgiveness. Because of Grace. Or. Was it because I was living out the ultimate of works. How in the world could I be in the wrong. Living as I was. "Perfect" "Sinless" A worker at an orphanage.
Where was my Identity? Was it there in me. In my works. In my actions. Was it there in Him. In His work. In His final action.
I've been in a bit of a spiritual slump now. Going on….nine months. It's not fun. It's not pretty. It's ugly. It's gross. It's self-focused. It's selfish. It's sorta wonderful at times. The times when clarity comes. The times when I see that my identity is now more in Him than it's ever been. The times when I see how much I desperately need that Grace in the midst of all this lagging. And Pushing. and Running. And nonsense. I see how wonderful His forgiveness. How accepting it is. How limitless. How priceless. How free. I see this more now than all the millions of times I try to earn it. I try to pay Him back. I try to do it on my own. I try to make it up to Him. All the times I am being foolish. Like my soul mates the Galatians.
The slump. It sucks. I hate it. I hate being so far. Of being in my own way. The slump. It's sorta wonderful. I am at times thankful. I like how it knocks me down. I like how when I am down I can only look up. I like that to look up I can't do it on my own. I can't pay it back. I can't make it up. I can't earn it. I can only accept it.
I think it's here. In this humble acceptance that I have nothing. This place of only accepting. That I am beginning to see the shapes of my identity. Not in Africa. Not in works. Not in me. But in a Cross. In a selfless act. In a Friend.
