Big God, little me.

Are you familiar with the story of Moses? You may not have physically read it yourself but I'm sure you've heard the story. Prince of Egypt, anyone? The story is about an Israelite who is raised as an Egyptian and eventually becomes the person who, with God's instruction, leads the Israelites out of bondage. 

It's a story in history that I've known my entire life. I've read about how the children of Israel wandered through the desert for 40 years on a trip that should have taken them 40 days. I've laughed at their unbelief and been amazed at the accounts of how they repeatedly doubted God even after all of the miracles that he orchestrated for them. 

Just in case you forgot or are unfamiliar, let me outline a few of the miracles; he parted the red sea and allowed them to walk on dry land, rained down manna from heaven for them to eat and gave them water from a random rock in the desert. Even after all of the miraculous signs and wonders the moment something scary started to happen, they doubted God. 

I've found, recently, that as much as I'd like to think that I am filled with unwavering, BIG faith I am exactly like the Israelites. I can be easily unnerved by tragedy or difficult situations. I've often found myself looking uncertainty in the face and instead of growling back like a fierce lion I turn and run into the arms of stress.

Sometimes when I stand at the base of a mountain in my way I can be forgetful of the fact that it's not the first of it's kind to interrupt my regularly scheduled programming. 

I, just like the Israelites in the Bible, often walk confidently by sight and timidly by faith. I lean on my own understanding more than the foresight of Christ and when I can't figure it all out I'm discouraged instead of encouraged that God will make a way. 

Little me often forgets how capital 'B' Big my God is. 

I heard the song Shadow Step by Hillsong United for the first time yesterday while sitting in a coffee shop. The first verse starts with these words, " Light up the way of your heart. Move me like you do the mountains. Move me like you do the wind and I'll chase your voice through the dark." 

The story of the Isrealites and the last few weeks of my, I guess you could say rocky faith journey, kind of all came to a head as I was overwhelmed with the lyrics of this song. If I've learned anything from life recently, it's that God isn't asking us to overcome the darkness in rough situations but rather to follow his voice through it.

God isn't asking us to figure out what the next step will be but rather to persevere in our faith and believe that where he leads us he will also provide grace enough to sustain us. 

If I had five blogs I still wouldn't have enough bandwidth or pages or even words to fully share the details of all of the humanly impossible situations in my life becoming a possibility all because of Christ. I'm forgetful, at times lacking of faith and consumed with pride but even in the midst of it all God is still faithful, he's still good and he's never left me high and dry.

I am humbled by the reality of my smallness and comforted by the truth of how Big our God is.

"God is good...not because he causes things that seem or feel "good" to happen in our lives, but because in the midst of the storm, God comes closer to us than the storm could ever be."  Charles Spurgeon. 

Who am I?

When I sat down this week to start writing about graduates and graduation a lot of ideas popped into my head. I thought about writing something about the importance of always being a student, seeking to learn and grow from every person that you meet. Though an interesting idea, it didn't quite feel right.

Then I considered writing an open letter entitled "dear graduates," with advice and tips and tricks for navigating the world outside of the four walls of school. This idea felt better than the first but the words just didn't flow, a clear indication that I was on the wrong track. 

All of that idea tossing and brain storming led me to what I'm writing about today, identity.

I don't know about you but all of my life I've been heavily defined by and tied to titles related to my education. For all of my K-12 years I was the home schooled kid and that was a badge that, once I stopped being ashamed of, I wore proudly. My post secondary track led me to a small all women's liberal art's school and for those four years I was the college student attending a strong all women's college. It was a time in my life that I was so proud of and shared with others quickly.

After finishing college I joined the global education program Up with People and for years it was the first thing I would share about myself when meeting new people. The fact that I got to travel the world performing, volunteering and living with host families made me feel like my life was such an adventure.

Then before I knew it, I wasn't connected to any of those things anymore. I was living in Denver, working in an office and staying in my host family's basement. 

My life it seemed, had gone from unique to unique to all of a sudden strikingly average. My identity was so tied to my circumstances and how they made me stand out from a crowd that when my circumstances became seemingly normal I felt like I as well had gone from someone that was special to someone who just blended in with the crowd. 

My first few weeks of living in Denver were harder than I imagined they would be. As I  began to settle into a routine; wake up, work, workout, sleep, repeat, I also began to settle into a cycle of self doubt and lack of identity.

"Who am I if I'm not the world traveler?" I thought to myself one day as I boarded a plane from Denver to Pennsylvania to visit my family.  Whenever I would come home to visit, my dad would always proudly introduce me to his friends as "his daughter, the world traveler,"  I was terrified at the thought of how boring his new introduction may potentially be. 

That weekend when we went to church, I walked into the building with my parents and immediately from across the room one of their friends, with a huge smile on their face, came bounding in our direction. They greeted my parents warmly and then turned my way and said "Is this the daughter that you've been telling us about?" and then wrapped me in a warm bear hug. As I stood there, hugging a stranger I was taken aback by the reality of my identity. 

To my parents, regardless of where I was studying, living or traveling I was always first and foremost their daughter. 

It's so easy for us to tie our identity and our worth to the things that we do and the circles that we run in. Do you find yourself doing that? Introducing yourself and first mentioning where you work as if our jobs are able to give people an all encompassing snapshot of who we really are. As if the fact that you're loving, kind and compassionate are secondary to the fact that you work for a non-profit or a large corporation.

Ted Dekker once said "Life consists of cycles of remembering and forgetting and I, like you, still forget far too often...and in that forgetting, my view is clouded once more until I remember who I am and surrender who I am not." 

That day, at church with my parents, I was reminded of who I am. I began to tie my identity to the factors that will always remain and not to the circumstances that are constantly ebbing and flowing through my life. I began to stop looking to my job, my friends and my situation to tell me who I am and started to embrace the truth of who God says that I am.

I willingly began to surrender who I am not and with a peaceful heart rested in the truth of who I am.