Identity

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"Be the joyful one," I tell myself as I amble from the locker room to the childcare-pickup at my gym. These four words have become my mantra for this 50-yard journey past the fittest of the fit.

It began one day when I could feel the comparison monster coming out to play and my insecurities rising. I felt like a champ during my workout, but as I progressed past the impressively muscled, zero-percent-bodyfat contingent of the gym, my strut subsided to a shuffle. 

As I caught my confidence and countenance shift, I considered my insecurities. Why was I affected like this?

The answer, I believe, lies in identity. 

I am a relatively fit person. Nutrition, wellness, and physical activity are very important to me . . . but so is dessert. And couch-potatoing. Suffice it to say that while a lot of the people on this particular fitness floor look like they are prepping for a Baywatch-era Sports Illustrated cover shoot, I do not. And yet, fitness is part of an identity I have always attempted to claim. 

If I were seeking fitness purely because I enjoy it or purely because it would lower my insurance premiums and chronic-disease risk, what would I care if others were seemingly doing it better? I care because if I take on something as part of who I am and I see someone who is a better example of it than I am, it threatens my identity. If I'm not as good as they are at this thing that makes me me, maybe I'm not as me as I thought I was. Maybe they, being experts in this thing, will see right through me. Maybe I am a sham.

Sometimes we allow the things we like to do, the things we are good at, or the things we want to be known for, to define us. We wrap up our sense of self in them. We create an idealized identity for ourselves. And then, when we see someone else who outshines us in these areas, it shatters the illusion and ushers in the insecurities:


Maybe I'm not . . . 

Creative.

Funny.

Fun.


Maybe I'm not a good . . . 

Cook. 

Friend.

Mother.


Maybe I'm not . . . 


So leaving the gym that day, I pondered what I should want to be known for. 

Love.

Joy.

Peace.

Patience.

Kindness.

Goodness.

Gentleness.

Faithfulness.

Self-control. 

(Galations 5:22-23)

I could be the one who loves. I could be the joyful one.

So now, as I proclaim these words silently at the gym, my focus shifts away from myself and away from those around me and lands on Jesus, the source of my joy. 

But here's the thing: as well as my post-workout mantra has served me, even the fruits of the Spirit should not be the basis of my identity--at least not as something I try to manifest in myself. Even good attributes like these could be the basis of insecurity-inducing comparison. 

There is one identity, however, that I am called to embrace:

I am one who is loved by God. 

It's the only identity that has nothing to do with my own skills or efforts to be seen a certain way; it's the only identity that can't be measured against someone else; and amazingly, it's the only one that matters. 

Taking on this identity doesn't mean I can't  be all those other things. Rather, it frees me to be those other things without fear of failure, without wondering how I measure up. 

I am one who is loved by God--and so are you.









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