Biblical counseling involves identifying our original design, diagnosing how we fall short of that design, and dispensing God’s grace to empower people to mature into the dignified likeness of Christ, the image of the invisible God.
Tag: Christ
In search of an identity… career.
I always tied my identity to what I did for a living. Americans are notorious for doing this.
Stranger: So tell me a little bit about yourself.
Me: Well, I’m a freelancer. I edit, proofread, and write articles.
I need to break the notion that I am my job. Kass does not equal writer.
I have this bad tendency to equate my self-worth to my accomplishments and achievements. The ironic thing is that my worth does not come from what I’ve accomplished or achieved but what Christ has already accomplished and achieved for all of mankind (including me!).
“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.” — I Corinthians 6:19-20
Thought of the Day
Are you more devoted to your idea of what Jesus wants than to Jesus Himself? If so, you are likely to hear one of His harsh and unyielding statements that will produce sorrow in you. What Jesus says is difficult— it is only easy when it is heard by those who have His nature in them. Beware of allowing anything to soften the hard words of Jesus Christ. — Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest, August 18
In search of an identity… Christianity.
Who am I… as a Christian?
As a Bible-believing Christian, this topic could be endless.
Under the banner of Christianity, I am a number of things:
- a sinner (Romans 3:23)
- lost without Christ (John 14:6)
- redeemed and forgiven of all my sins (Colossians 1:13-14)
- God’s child (John 1:12)
- bought with a price (I Corinthians 6:19)
- a citizen of heaven (Philippians 3:20)
- God’s workmanship (Ephesians 2:10)
The list goes on. But what does that mean for me as an individual?
I read God’s Plans For You by J. I. Packer in the hopes that I’d get some kind of divine revelation as to who I’m supposed to be. Nothing of the sort happened. Although I did gain some further insight as to what kind of individual God wants me to be.
An erroneous thought circulating in Christian circles is that, above all things, God wants us all to be happy. Above all things, God wants Christians to be holy. Achieving that apart from the guidance of the Holy Spirit is no easy task. What does the pursuit of holiness mean? (Another good book for me to read.) It means going after the things that are pleasing to God and pursuing the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).
Here’s where God has led me in my Christianity so far:
- To a reformed (Calvinistic) view of Christian faith
- To a PCA (Presbyterian Church in America)
- To regular weekly Bible studies with women in my church
- To form godly, female friendships with women in my church and over the Internet
That’s about as individual as it gets right now. There’s nothing profound or earth-shattering in this post. It’s simply an attempt to get me to figure out who I am as a Christian.
In search of an identity…
Who am I?
What is my purpose?
Those two questions run through my mind at least once a day. (I’m probably providing a conservative estimate on that front.) Well, here are the basic answers to each question:1. Who am I?
First and foremost, a Christian female; an adopted child of God bought with a price and a joint-heir with Christ.2. What is my purpose?
To glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever. (Westminster Shorter Catechism, Q1)
Those are the general things, applicable to a wide variety of Christian women. But specifically, who is the person that I’m supposed to be—the person no one else can be? What is God’s individual purpose for my life? Let’s start with a list of things that make up who I am:
Who I am
- Christian
- Female
- Daughter
- Wife
- Cousin
- Niece
- Black
- Writer
- Friend
- New Yorker
Really, is there much more to it than that?
Some of who I am is pretty straightforward in my opinion and does not need to be pursued much further, ie, female, daughter, wife, cousin, niece, friend. However (for me), it can get complicated when one of those things becomes a noun and the other becomes an adjective: What does it mean to be a Christian female? Or a Christian wife? Or a Black Christian? Or Black female? Here are the main topics I struggle with regarding my identity:
Christianity: What does it mean to be a Christian?
Race: What does it mean to be black in America, especially since I am first-generation American and am also married to a white American male?
Career: What kind of a writer am I? How do I pursue this, namely in a dying profession such as print journalism?
Location: My heart longs to be in no other place than New York but I’ve become content to live in Philadelphia. Am I still a New Yorker? Can I call myself a Philadelphian too now?
After exploring the main topics that plague my identity, I’ll try to address the issue of what my purpose in my life. I have the scary feeling, however, that the task will be much more difficult that trying to figure out who I am.
Painting Pictures of Egypt
A friend I have went to NYC recently and met up with a few friends. She explored the city, took lots of pictures, and seemed to have a blast.
Then I found myself thinking, “Why don’t I still live there, Lord? Why am I not there?”
Of all things, I wasn’t jealous because she was spending time with people she cared about nor was I jealous that she had a good time.
I was upset not because she was in New York but because I wasn’t.
How pathetic is that?
In recent months, I’ve been struggling with the issue of identity:
- “Who am I?”
- “Yes, I’m a Christian and need to find my identity in Jesus but what does that mean? It sounds so theoretical and abstract.”
- “What does it mean to be Black in America?”
- “Does race matter?”
I thought I’d let the New York thing go. It was a big struggle when I moved to Kentucky considering how much I hated Kentucky but I’ve been content in Philadelphia. So why do pictures of Manhattan and Brooklyn get me nostalgic for the days of going to NYU and attending my old church in the quaint section of Brooklyn Heights? Why? Would I trade what I have now (a husband who loves and cares for me) for what I had back then (single, depressed, no one)?
I’m a fool so I struggle with this.
I suppose what makes things harder is that the prospect of living in New York ever again is about as likely as the prospect of living in Kentucky again. Zero. I never loved Kentucky, I never grew up in Kentucky, Kentucky was never my home.
Sara Groves talks about “Painting Pictures of Egypt” and “leaving out what it lacked.” Perhaps I’m doing that with New York. When I think of living at NYU, I don’t think of the time I wandered dark alleyways at 2 or 3 am in the morning, hoping I’d get raped or murdered. I don’t think of how I frequently walked the Manhattan streets alone and lonely, eyeing couples and friends with jealousy because I possessed neither of those things. I simply think of the exhilarating feeling I’d get when I walked to class near Washington Square in the winter while flurries dropped just because I lived in New York.
- I got high off of living in Manhattan. I love the city. Sure, it smells like pee but it’s a place I loved to call home.
- I’m proud to tell people that I was born in Brooklyn and raised there for the first five years of my life.
- I have a love for the Yankees that runs deep. No matter how bad they suck, they’re always World Champs in my heart. (On the contrary, I have a hatred for the Red Sox that runs deep.) 😉
- My family, namely my mother and grandmother, live in New York and I miss them all so dearly.
- I have friends from middle school that I talk to infrequently but still care about and miss spending time with.
If you asked me which city was the best in the world, I’d tell you New York. I just love that place.
However, I feel terrible because my friend was having a wonderful time visiting places and friends and the main emotion I could muster was jealousy. And like the fool I am, I had no words for her other than “I’m jealous.” Those words started out as a figure of speech but then evolved into actual jealousy. She didn’t warrant that. My sin and identity issues shouldn’t be her problem.
So it’s back to the drawing board yet again. For all my nostalgia, I’m putting my primary identity in the wrong thing. My primary identity is not native New Yorker. My primary identity is Christian. And whenever anything or anyone dethrones Christ; it’s wrong and it’s sin. And I need to repent.
This Journey Is My Own 