A warm breeze blowing my hair. Sunlight dancing on my face. The smell of Spring surrounding me. My heart is renewed.
I feel the warmth of a fire being reignited in my soul just as I feel the warmth of the sun. A spark, an ember has turned into a flame once more. A passion, a zeal, a thirst and an appreciation for my life just as it is, permeates my soul, finding its way into every nook and cranny of my being. For the first time in a really long time I feel free. Free to dream. Free to hurt. Free to express myself. Free to go. Free to give. Free to receive. Free to love the person that I have been hating, dismissing and tormenting for so long: myself.
You see, I’ve recently had a bit of an identity crisis. Admittedly, this has happened many times before. But this time felt different. It came in a form that was unrecognizable to me: The World Race. And this is what I’ve realized-
I am not a World Racer.
I have to be completely honest. The past few weeks have not been easy. It’s as if I’ve been two different people. One – a strong, confident, bold, loving and thankful woman following the path that God has laid before her. The other – an insecure, jealous, confused, anxious and selfish woman who sees the world through the eyes of negativity. The self that I have been showing to the outside world is the first. I became so good at saving face that I actually believed that was how I was feeling on the inside–as if everything was going great. When in reality, an identity crisis was raging war within me, grabbing more and more pieces of my heart until it boiled to the surface and exploded. I was left feeling completely debilitated, unable to function or do even the simplest tasks without feeling completely overwhelmed.
I could not for the life of me understand what was happening inside of me. It seemed to come out of left field. But when I finally came to the person that I had inadvertently been running from for weeks, I found some answers. I had begun to lose myself in the Race. Instead of the Race being an adventure during this chapter of my life, a piece of this season that God has me in, it became part of my identity. I was a Racer. Period. Everything that I did was for the Race. I only spent money on things for the Race. My thoughts were consumed by what I still needed to get, the money that still needs to come in, the things that I am going to pack, the places that I am going to go, the people that I am going to miss, the major life events of those closest to me that I am won’t be here for, the loss of a job and the possibility of living on my parents’ couch when I return. My mind and my heart were consumed by the Race and I haven’t even left yet. Meghan Grant, World Racer. This is who I was.
And as this war raged inside of me, old insecurities and thought patterns resurfaced. My battle with self-hatred came back full force, convincing me that I am worthless, ugly, stupid, sick and alone. I found myself feeling like a failure as an adult for making this choice. What am I going to do when I get home? How will I pay my bills? What if I never have enough in my savings? What if I’m not really who Jesus says I am? What if I fail at being a Christian, turning people away from Christ by admitting my weaknesses and my emotions? What if I fail on the Race? What if the Race is it? What if the other desires of my heart never come to fruition? What if, what if, what if? Saying all of this now makes it sound even more crazy than I realized. There really wasn’t a reasonable thought in my mind during this period and so I did the thing that I’m so used to doing – I ran away. Ran away from my life, from myself and from my Jesus hiding in books, movies and dreams.
Thankfully, as always, Jesus showed up. He lovingly reminded me who I am and who I am not. I am not a World Racer. I am a daughter of the King. I am more than what the world tells me I am, more than what those around me say about me, and much more than I think I am. I am capable and created for so much more than I dare to imagine. And for too long, I’ve pretended and therefore believed that I’m not. The lies, the insecurities, the faults and the desires that continue to take up residence in my heart started crying out in voices that were louder than the Truth. The soft, sweet, and beautiful whispers of the Lover of my soul were made silent for a brief moment in time. But in this time, I realized just how much I need Jesus. I am not myself apart from Him.
So, this is who I am: Meghan Grant, follower of Jesus. When I remember this, when I focus on this, then everything else falls into place and I can be so many other things. I can be Meghan the daughter, sister, friend, mentor, missionary, wife, mother, listener, chef, writer, World Racer, artist–really anything! All in all, when I remember who I really am, I am FREE.
