Here in Iquique’s Policía de Investigaciones building, Laura and I sit in a set of three joined chairs awaiting our turn scheduled for 3:30. The mother sitting next to me has a daughter with pink glasses and long wavy hair that keeps looking over at me curiously and peeking around her mother to catch a glimpse of whoever’s blog post I happen to be reading on my iPhone. Two of the Australian surfer guys that stayed in the same room as me and Sarah last night are finishing up their report on their stolen speakers now. (I overheard some of their conversations last night as they walked in and out of our room. Somehow whoever stole their speakers left the phone sitting on the beach.)
I have a little bit of déjà vu now. Sitting here in this blue chair reminds me of falling asleep on the beach in southern Spain and waking up to a chilly clamminess, discovering that Carly’s bag and passport had been stolen. Thankfully we’re already partway through the process of figuring out my trip back to Santiago and how to get that emergency passport. My parents have already cancelled my cards and are plotting to bring things to me to replace what we can of my stolen daypack. My valuables and documents are gone, yes, and this is what the boys have been most worried about. My “valuables” are gone too: wallet, iPad, iPod. (I do miss my earbuds and the thousands of songs compressed into ones and zeroes that I’ve hoarded over the last eight years.) But at this point, I’m saddest about the four journals I had in there and my water-damaged Bible with all its messily underlined verses. I’ve lost months of recorded memories, thoughts, prayers, lessons, and words from God. I brought a journal that I made on the Race in the hopes of keeping up my sketching and calligraphy practice, and that’s gone too. Even with these things gone, though, I still have peace knowing that they’re just things. They were going to fade away anyways. And I believe God has much more for me to learn through this ordeal besides how to deal with losing stuff.
Among these lessons He has for me is one big one that has to do with people-pleasing and other ways I find my identity in people and ideas other than God Himself. On the bus right after my daypack got stolen, I found that I was much more worried about what my parents would say than anything else. I need to learn that my identity is not based on their affirmation, like I always have believed. I’m always worried about what they will say about me and my decisions. I’m scared of them telling me that I didn’t do the right thing, that I didn’t do something the way I should have done it, that I don’t believe the right things. So much of me is based on what they think of me that their opinion of me controls my decisions, my beliefs, who I am. And it’s not that they’re bad people or don’t love me! It’s actually quite the opposite. But I always worry about what they’re going to think. Right now I am holding on to the peace that God has given me that surpasses every thought – even thoughts of their disapproval in not watching my bag more carefully, even expectations of their disappointment. My identity is not in them.
I am holding on to the identity Christ has given me through His Word and His people – my brothers and sisters. He has given me peace and strength and joy. Throughout college, my friends saw in me a sense of peace and steadiness, a calmness (even underneath my laughter and craziness) that would spread to others. And yesterday night, someone at JUCUM Antofagasta, a potential ministry host that we stayed with for a few days, told me that I am a strong rock (roca fuerte) in Christ. God is refining me even now to step into that identity of strength and peace and steadiness by putting me through this situation I’d find near impossible if it wasn’t for Him and His constancy in my life.
My hope is built on nothing less / Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness / I dare not trust the sweetest frame / But wholly trust in Jesus’ name / On Christ the Solid Rock I stand / All other ground is sinking sand / All other ground is sinking sand
