In 2015 I lost my identity. Not in the way that you might be thinking. No one gained access to my finances. No one bought a single item using my credit cards.
No, it was worse than that.
I’m a mother and grandmother whose family lives 14 hours away. I’m not a pastor anymore. I no longer teach. No one asks me for counsel or advice. And, due to injuries, I can’t even go to the gym.
In 2015, I lost my purpose. And in losing my purpose, I lost my identity. This is particularly hard for me because I need to feel needed. I’m wired to be responsible. I never learned how to be a daughter of God but I had gotten really good at being his servant.
I’ve found things to occupy my time. I sew costumes for Liberty. I make quilts. I read books. I watch television. I go to the beach. I’m not unhappy. I’m just not very useful.
On my hip is a tattoo with a butterfly on a cross. I got it to remind me that “In Christ, I became who I am becoming.”
I am like the butterfly who must go through her own metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly. I am in my own cocoon of transformation.
I hope to transform from pastor to author. I believe that when I get out of this I’ll be able to teach with the written word instead of standing behind a pulpit. I trust that God will use these blogs and, eventually, a book to counsel others as we go through shared experiences together.
So often I write about what we must do to align ourselves with God’s purpose. This time, I’m suggesting that there are times when there is absolutely nothing we can do but rest in his promises. We have to trust that God loves us as sons and daughters who do absolutely nothing but love him.