I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one.--1 John 13-14
Much of the time, the things we think about ourselves are not what God thinks of us. As humans, we tend to construct our identities based what we can or can't do, how we fail, what we don't like about ourselves, what we wish were different about our circumstances, or bad things that have happened to us in the past. Our identities become this baklava made of a complex construction layers and filling, but instead of being crispy and delicious, they are grievous and hard to swallow.
Strip all of that stuff away, because the ONLY thing that matters about you is that God is ABSOLUTELY good, and this being who can do no evil loves you with an incorruptible love.
Taste and see that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8).
Let me repeat: God is good, and the only thing that matters is that you are loved by Him.
A lot has happened since I last wrote almost a month ago. I have moved to a new state, started a new job, and seen the provision of God in the smallest of details during the transition. I have only been here a week, but He has made my path very clear down to the barest of details. I have stepped into blessings I did not ask for, blessings I couldn't have anticipated.
But one of the most important things that happened this month is that I really started to get it: my identity is that He loves me.
If you've read some of my past blog posts, you know that perfectionism and self-condemnation has been a struggle of mine. My natural tendency is to focus on what I have failed to acheive. When it comes to certain disciplines and weaknesses, I expect to disappoint myself.
Before I moved, I made several trips to Texas for interviews, housing searches, and general survey of the promised land. During one of these visits, my best good friend came with me, and she and I sat in the car to read the Bible outside of our lunch destination. (They have Chipotle here!!!! So exciting!) We were reading 1 John.
...that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete (1:4).
John continues with a verse I've often quoted: This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
God is completely good and pure. He has lived with the Son in perfect, pure intimacy since the beginning of time. And He wants to have that intimacy with us, so that His joy and our joy may be complete.
We overcomplicate this so much in our human hearts.
As I sat there in the parking lot discussing how good the Father is, I started to share with my friend about the layers of my own identity that I don't like. I have often felt like I don't seek Him enough or love Him enough, and that I've been resistant to His ways. I started to tell her about the ways I feel disappointed in myself and frustrated with my own spiritual imperfection.
Here I was, being blessed with a new place to live in a new season of life, and I was considering the ways I fail and don't deserve to be blessed. I think people on the outside often see me much more accurately than I see myself, because they can see that my heart is with His heart. But my mind is a complicated place, and it is constantly over-analyzing every thought and feeling.
My friend responded by telling me who God sees when He looks at me: His beloved child, whom He can't wait to bless. He sees someone who has not been resistant to His love, but rather an active seeker of His presence.
I started to cry. (In a parking lot...awkward, I know.) But my tears were not tears of frustration. Rather, they were tears of relief.
There is an incredible relief in realizing that my identity as a believer is not based on who I think I am, but what He thinks of me. My identity isn't based on anything having to do with me at all, really--it's only based on who He is.
And He is perfect and good. His love is complete light--absolutely without any negative intention or thought. It is so incredibly simple, yet so powerful that it crucified sin and defeated death for the sake of the beloved.
The beloved is YOU.
He has one expectation of us: that we receive His love.
Ironically, I think that is the thing we fail most at as Christians, and it is the thing that matters most to His heart. As we struggle to succeed in so many areas of morality and service, we neglect the one thing He treasures the most: our ability to accept His love.
I want to ask you today what my friend asked me: What are the ways in which you think you are inadequate?
And then: Why does that matter?
Go back to the list of Christian identifiers in 1 John 2:12-14. There are only three verbs in this description: you know (the Father and His Word), you are (forgiven), and you have overcome. That's past tense. The evil one has been overcome, not because of what you did, but because of what you know and believe.
Our identity is that we are loved by a perfect God. That's it. There is nothing else.
Know and believe that today. Strip away the layers of lies and abide in the simple, pure light of an identity of love.
You might have to cry in a restaurant parking lot. But believe me, the realization is worth it.
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