I once lived on a farm in Albania…
We arrived at the beginning of August. With the whole squad together, the farm was a safe haven. Time stood still for us to reunite and focus our community’s attention on the Lord who called us together.
The Peace Corps arrived the second week. And the farm became an environmentalist camp. They taught Albanian youth about recycling and reusable resources and the superior effectiveness of producing fruits and vegetables over meat.
The Baptists came the week after the hippies. And the small community turned the farm into a retreat. The girls were separated from the boys when it came time for swimming and the modesty of the women put even world racers to shame.
George left when the Baptists did and the farm became a project. We were put to work washing walls, painting boxes, weeding the grounds and cleaning the facilities.
We are living on a farm but it has had many different purposes over the past month. And at moments, I feel like the same can be said about myself. There are days where I’ve done anything and everything to serve. I’ve been an archer, a climber, activities coordinator, a guard, cook, cleaner, gardener. But what I’ve come to understand is that I am not defined by any of these titles.
See, God has been opening my eyes to how I determine my identity. I am used to finding identity in the labels that the world has assigned to me; student, dancer, tutor, traveler. Even my wardrobe of beautiful dresses, classy clothes and multitudes of sophisticated heels has given me something to cling to. But upon arriving in Albania, God has made it clear that I have been stripped of everything I once attached my identity to. And with that, the Lord has shown me that we, Him and I, are starting at ground zero in the process of determining my identity through Him. And I hear this verse echo in my head:
“The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” -2 Corinthians 5:17
So the process began. Communication between my Father and I focused on my desire to know and see who He has made me to be. To build upon the qualities He has instilled in me and to increase my discernment between desires of the soul and that of the flesh.
Then a wise truth was spoken to me:
You are a daughter of God. A daughter of the King. This makes you a princess.
I had no idea it would be that simple. When my search for identity began, I expected God to continue developing upon the lesson for a greater part of the race. But no. My identity is not something I had to seek or discover. It was presented to me by one who saw me in that truth.
And so, I may be working in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and lunch for the squad every morning as work continues. Or I may be sitting by the gate for hours on end to keep track of everyone’s whereabouts. Or even teach Albanian youth how to shoot an arrow with a complex bow. But regardless of what my job may be, I am still a daughter of God, and I always will be. And I am basking in the progressive discovery of what that inheritance entails…
“Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you.” –Isaiah 43:4
And so it begins.
“And it shall be said, ‘Build up, build up, prepare the way, remove every obstruction from my people’s way.’ For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.’ ” –Isaiah 57:12-15
