me, myself, and I don't know

"A sudden bold and unexpected question doth many times surprise a woman and lay her open." ~ Sir Francis Bacon


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For me lately, it's been more like a constant assault of the same question, over and over, coursing through my brain...  and yes, it is a bold question - utterly surprising and laying my heart wide open. The question I've been wrestling through is one that I thought at the age of 27 I had already worked through... it's one of basic, elemental identity.

Who am I?


Really humbling, that question. Ugh... that's been drifting through my heart lately, as I've asked myself - haven't I been through this before?! I've already wrestled with this question in junior high, in high school, in college, after college... why do I still gravitate towards being insecure in who I am? Haven't I read my Bible enough that I know Proverbs 31 by heart, and Jeremiah 29:11, and Philippians 4:13... verses that confirm my identity as a woman, a child of God, with a purpose for good things, and even so great of things that I might think they are impossible, but they actually aren't, because of my identity...?

Yet the past several weeks have presented me with many mornings into which I've woken with this question hovering in the shadows of my heart... not just this question about who I am, but questions about who I am intended to become. Now. In my current season of life. In Franklin, TN. As a new wife. Not yet a mother, but hoping to become one someday. With a certain marketable skill set that I'm not sure how to market. With discernible spiritual gifts or propensities, that I am trying to once again utilize in a defined place of ministry.

I am something, and I think I know what it is some days, but I'm not ever as certain about it as I wish I was... ya know? It's just sort of vague. And vague makes me uncomfortable. Vague is not, as a Christian woman, what I am called to be.

... And by the way, when was the last time I played piano?

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I was talking to my friend Allison about all this the other night. Allison is married to Nick, and they are a couple that Tim and I have grown incredibly close to in the past year, as Tim and Nick work together. About a year ago, Allie moved to Nashville from California, leaving behind the only home she'd ever known... so she gets some of this stuff I've been working through - and I posed this question to her the other night:

If in Memphis, I was a tree... a tree by a river, with roots that had grown deep and strong in rich soil, with sunshine and water plenty, surrounded by family and friends... a tree that bore fruit, a tree that others recognized and knew the history about, the context and the name of... and if I am suddenly uprooted - then what do I do now? Where do I place my roots? Because even though there are rivers here, the water is still different. And there is plenty of sunshine here, but it casts shadows in different places. So in the meantime... while I am adjusting to the water, trying to get the soil just right around me, trying to learn the new position of the sun's rays... where do I place my roots?

My head knows the answer. I place my roots in Christ. I plant myself, I abide in Him, I drink His living water, I turn my face to His light, I rest in the shadows of His wings, my soul draws satisfaction from the security of His purpose for my life, and in time, this tree will once again be known.

But my heart... in my daily life, as I try to make friendships, build a home, find a church, find a job, get involved in a network, so that I can finally move on and encourage other uprooted trees... sometimes that takes a little longer.

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About a week ago, I started reading through a book that my mom actually passed along to me, called The Resolution for Women, by Priscilla Shirer. By the time I finished the introduction, I was so choked up that I actually left Starbucks... truth is an arrow, and it pierces deep.

The introduction went something like this:

I make choices every day. Everybody does. I am a woman of resolutions, whether I am always conscious of it or not. I walk through my day making decisions based upon certain ways I feel are right. I exist as certain things to certain people, and I contribute in specific ways to specific situations that I choose or have chosen along the way.

But I lack an awareness of why I am the way that I am. I lack a comprehensive steadfastness about who I am, and what I bring into the world around me. I lack a firmness... a resolve. A confidence. I wear a banner, but do I even know what that banner is anymore? I am always looking ahead to who I hope to be, and what I want my home to be, and what I want my relationships to be... but do I have the joy of knowing my role now?

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I honestly had to answer... no. And it broke my heart, and I've been praying a lot about it since. I've talked with Tim about it, and I've talked with my mom about it. Otherwise... I've stayed quiet. My heart has been stirred, and I know from experience - there is no getting it unstirred again.

It might seem silly... but a few nights ago, I sat down at the piano and began to cry. One of those wrenching cries that empties your heart out at the foot of the Cross, and you don't even really see it coming. And you know why I cried?... I cried because of how good it felt to play the piano again. Tim was out for the evening, and I sat down at the piano for a minute, determined to "try it" again and see what I could get into playing. I put my fingers on the keys, and all of a sudden, this rush of emotion just... overtook. I began praying, I began to worship, in a way that I haven't done in so long... for whatever reason. It was humbling, to realize how lost I had become, in such a simple, silly way. I played those keys until my wrists and fingers hurt, and it felt so good. I've played it every day since. It might sound dramatic, but I felt like a part of me had come home. There's nothing like finding out that you've come back home, when up until a moment before you hadn't even known you'd been away...

Those reconciling moments keep coming, this past week especially. The roots are drawing water again, and the richness is once again making its way into the branches.

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It is no accident that my heart has been asking these questions again, or that my mother passed along a book to me that speaks directly to that pondering. It is no accident that I have been reading through the Old Testament and rediscovering how extensively and intimately God longs to define His people - leaving nothing vague. No accident that there has been a resurgence in my prayer life, or that I've had more energy to invest in new friendships here in Nashville... no accident that He who began a good work will faithfully find ways to keep this tree alive, watered, rooted, and growing.

And the incredible thing... the most humbling thing of all, to tell the honest truth... is that as I'm rediscovering (or discovering for the first time?) who He created me to be, I find myself discovering exponentially more of who He is, and how I can daily become more like Him... that my identity would somehow, someday, become not me at all, but a living, breathing testament to the I AM that He is.

I'm excited about the weeks ahead. All you other trees... thanks for resting with me beside these waters.

Lauren