It’s no secret if you’ve talked to me (or read my blog) that the last two months have been filled with a fair amount of challenges. The hardest thing for me to overcome has been a feeling of being blocked, not just in writing but also spiritually. I felt restless for a large part of January despite an awesome living situation, loving hosts and how good life was in Ghana. I didn’t to feel connected to God, and nothing I did could change that; prayer, reading His word, nothing. I don’t know that I really did anything creative at all last month either.
It wasn’t until we arrived at debrief and I failed at multiple attempts to realign myself that I realized the problem.
I forgot my identity.
I was so caught up with who I thought I was supposed to be that I forgot who I actually am. What it is that makes me ME; happy, connected and productive. I somehow separated who I am from “Team Leader Sara”. I realized I was placing unrealistic expectations on myself. I was carrying loads that were never mine to carry, some belonged to God, some belonged to other members of my team, and some of them to no one at all—least of all me. This left me emotionally exhausted and feeling lost.
A couple of gentle reminders from friends, mentors and even God directed me back to taking care of myself. I was reminded that I was put in a position of leadership because of who I was, because I already had good things that I should be bringing to the table, that I had nothing to prove. All of those extra loads I was carrying weren’t mine, but what was mine I wasn’t carrying. I wasn’t leading or loving myself well.
And then I started to think about all of the other identities that I take on in life; church Sara, team leader Sara, teacher Sara, work Sara, daughter, friend, the list goes on and on and on. I have allowed certain situations I am in or certain roles that I have to define my identity. I wonder how healthy that is when the goal should be to authentically be me in any and every role of life. Not to hide behind who I’m supposed to be or even who I used to be. It’s a lot to think about, especially as thoughts of the race ending and returning home come closer and closer. Will I be the person I found here on the edges of the world when I get home?
On the race identity was an area I was pretty confident in, but in these last couple of months I lost site of it. And now that I’ve got it back I’ve had to ask myself, when I return home will it be so easy to do the same thing? Will I be able to realize that I’m faking it, or trying to be something I’m not so easily? Will I realize where I’m holding back or giving in because I don’t know what the people in my life will think?
Before I left for the race and when I was debating whether to leave teaching or not I said to a friend, “but I’m an art teacher” and her response to me was, “that’s what you do, not who you are.” Word choice is important and I didn’t really understand how important that word choice was until now.
If I limited my identity to a role I have been assigned I am limiting so much more of who I am and who God designed me to be. Instead, it comes down to this, whether I’m teaching art to room of middle schoolers, caring for a child in Honduras, having a conversation with a prostitute in Nepal, preaching in Africa or processing mortgage loans behind a desk—wherever God leads me—I am who he made me, beautiful, bold, creative, loving and so much more. I am fearfully and wonderfully made to do his work and the title I have doesn’t make one but of difference in who I am. And it doesn’t make a difference for you either.
Lots of love,
Sara
