My youngest leaned over to me during worship last week, cupped her hand around my ear, and whispered, “Mom, what do you actually do? Like every day. Who are you and what do you DO?”
Oh, brother.
I could tell that in the moments before she leaned over, her mind was pondering. She sat deep in thought (I assumed considering the words that were being preached…but alas…), and apparently while she reviewed the question in her mind, there was not one conclusion this offspring of mine could come up with. I could only begin to imagine the processing that took place prior to her question:
What does mom do? What in the world does my mom do? Who is she? Does she DO anything? Because I can’t think of one thing my mom…”Mom, what do you actually do?…”
I cupped my hands around her ear and loudly yelled, “A LOT!”
Just kidding. But only because we were in the middle of church. A different scenario might have led to a different outcome.
Instead, I simply whipsered, “What do you think I do?” And then she shrugged her shoulders.
For the love of…cooking, dressing, shopping, working, loving, doing homework, building cardboard castles, making cell projects (this was an “A” project, incidentally. I was pretty proud of that one), doing laundry, and cleaning up after little offsprings…
…she shrugged her shoulders!
So, we just left it with the shrug. After church, I discovered my daughter’s bulletin and found this penned on the preparation for worship: 
Sweet thing. Kind of.
At least she came up with “music” for mom, but I did note that every one else in the family had also been given some generous adjectives. And I also made note that my adjective was scribbled out. That word may or may not have said “mean,” which may or may not have been the result of a face I gave her in response to her shrug.
If I’m honest, there was a desire in me to sit my daughter down and explain that I do much more than just music. I do important work….like 4th grade cell projects, etc. Etc, etc, etc. Etc. Even though I reigned in my immature response, her question still stuck with me: Who are you, and what do you do, Mom?
What is my significance and why do I feel the pressing need to prove myself? I’m likely not the only person who feels the need to verify my worthiness to a questioning soul, but why is it that we sometimes feel this pressing desire? For me, the gripping emotion stems from a gap between my understanding of who I am and my relationship with Christ. The two should never be separated, but, admittedly, there are times when my identity and my Savior sit at the top of two opposing mountains with a great chasm in between.
The world preaches so many false identities: our kids, our lineage, our job, the school we attended, even our suffering can become the identity we hold onto. The world says to look within to find who you truly are. Contrary to everything the world says, Christianity tells us not to look within but to look up. Because the truth is, our true identity is not about finding out who we are, it’s about seeking out who He is.
Your true identity is imperishable.
In Christ, we are sons and daughters of God, through faith in Him. And because Christ has set His love on His children, we can call Him our Abba, Father. And that love, that status, will never be lost, taken, or reconsidered. We have an imperishable inheritance as heirs of Christ.
The difficult question to wrestle with is whether or not I have made something else…or even someone else…my savior. Is my identity rooted in being a mother? Is it engrained in my kid’s success, my job, or my heritage? And even more difficult to wrestle with, is my identity being rooted in my own self-pity?
When any of these become central to who I am, the chasm widens and my insecurity deepens. And why? Because none of these are infallible. Our kids will disappoint us, jobs will be lost, and our self-pity forms a hedge between us and our loved ones. When we are rooted in anything other than Christ for our identity, we will eventually crumble in confusion, trying in vain to put back together the pieces of who we thought we were.
But there is always grace. Overflowing grace that reminds us not only who we are but who we belong to. There may be circumstances that have caused you to feel broken and insecure, but the Lord has promised His children that you are still whole. You are still loved. You are still His. Under no circumstances will that identity ever change.
Your true identity was given to you for a purpose.
Of the many things that fight for our self-worth, there is only one that does not say, “Earn it. Do better for it. Fight harder to obtain it.” Our identity as a child of God has been given to us freely and without constraint.
And it’s given to us in order to bring God glory (1 Cor. 10:31). John Piper, in one of his Desiring God podcasts, says this: “He has given you food and drink. Why? He has given you tongues to taste. Why? ‘So that whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, you would do it to the glory of God.’ That’s who you are. That’s your nature. That’s your identity. Your identity is to live to display his identity as glorious.”
The distinctiveness we’ve been freely given as a son or daughter in Christ is given that we might display the glorious identity of Christ. And just because our identity is ROOTED in Him doesn’t mean that what we do or what we love needs to be SEPARATED from Him. Expressing pleasure in a job I love does not necessarily mean I hold it above Jesus, but the work I do and the gifts He’s given me to do it should boast of my Father. My identity and my relationship to Jesus should be so tightly woven that it displays a beautiful picture of the God who made me and created me.
I asked my daughter the other night if she had thought any more about what I do or who I am. She answered quickly and confidently: “Well, I’d say you’re Katie Polski. And you’re my mom.”
You got it, kid. I’m your mom.
And I’m a child of God.
And Jesus is my Abba, Father.
