I have gotten my head kicked in the last several weeks. Do you know those weeks? Where things are said about you-true or untrue-you don't seem to get much grace or understanding, you can't seem to do anything right or well and as soon as you stand up and turn, you get punched again. I. Was. Down. It's not really people--for we know the battle isn't flesh and blood- but the Enemy really kicked my legs out from under me.
I found myself shutting down. Changing how I was going to respond in areas I had felt passionate about. Some of my closest friends feared my light had been dimmed. I was letting my new puppy outside (I know...you're questioning my sanity) and I stood alone and wondered "Am I getting depressed? What is happening to me?"
I finally began a diagnostic check. How are my eating habits? Am I eating too much sugar? Have I slowed down on exercise? Do I not want to do things I enjoy?
I knew where to start physically to check on myself. But spiritually...where did I land? For the most part, I listen and read good, sound things. My focus seemed to be on right things. At one point, I listened to a sermon from a church in Texas I like to listen to. I usually only listen to the lead pastor but for some reason, I didn't turn it off when one of his younger associate pastors spoke that morning. He spoke about identity--about his profession and his skin tone and his talents. And he asked what if something happened and he couldn't preach? Or when he isn't young and cool anymore? I don't remember anything else he said because the wheels were turning.
I have said since Scott did that my identity wasn't shaken. That who I am wasn't in being Scott's wife or my kids mom. And I mean that. Scott didn't make me who I am. Or change me. He complemented me. Championed and encouraged me. But I realized in these rough weeks, that maybe my view of my identity had deviated just a tiny bit.
Had I started viewing my identity in light of my gifts? In what I can do for God? In how He can use me? And not in Him and Him alone. Eeek. It's so closely aligned. I want to live for Him and serve Him. And those are good things. But. What am I made for? My identity isn't in my gifts, but in the Giver of those gifts. I am made to know Him and dwell with Him. He dwells in me. Dwell--I love that word. Not visit or vacation there. Not stop by. It means to live there. That's it. That's what I was made for. To love and know Him and to be known by Him alone. If He were to take out my voice and my legs which help me speak and do, am I still Lauren? Can I still please Him? Absolutely. If He chooses to use me, great. And if He uses someone else, great too. He doesn't need me. I dwell with Him and walk in obedience. And that is it. He does the rest.
I am pulling myself out. Or rather, He was right beside me all along and has begun to pull and push and reshape. Sometimes that's painful. Sometimes it's more simple than we make it. EYES ON HIM. EYES ON HIM.
The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:14
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust." Psalm 91:1-2
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