As many of you watched this year’s Super bowl, you probably remember the halftime show. The show’s lead performers were “The Who”. Embarrassingly enough, I didn’t know what they sang, until they played (what I call) the CSI song, “Who are you?”

 

Hearing the song played that night brought many memories flooding to mind. When my twin daughters were infants, this show was my reprieve to non-infant dialogue and intelligence. I didn’t have to exert any energy in talking back to someone in conversation, just simply watch. As I finished their last feeding before bed, the opening song would play, and I would sing along to my daughters as they smiled back. I told my daughters this story during the Super bowl song. They laughed and said they kind of remembered:)

 

Two weeks ago, I was sleeping in the same bedroom that I had numerous sleepovers in with my best friend since the age of 7. We were sharing the same room again, in our mid-thirties. This was a bittersweet time with my friend, and a time I’ll cherish always. Her father was slipping from his earthly life in the next room. Before we turned out the lights that night, we were discussing the details of his funeral and eulogy. As I struggled to sleep, I began to think of the song, “Who are you”. We knew him, but how did his daughters effectively express this knowing to others in just a small space and time.

 

This began a series of thoughts for me that turned into Who am I, and Who are each of us? The next question was Who knows you? We let very few people into our lives deep enough to truly answer that question. Many memorials consist of superficial descriptions of the deceased because their lives were superficial or they never opened their heart enough for others to truly know them. Thank goodness this wasn’t the case for my friend’s Dad, but I knew I didn’t want it to be the case for me either.

 

I began scanning my relationships and the ones that truly knew me. During the beginning of my personal tragedy a few years ago, I told two of the people I thought I should have been closest to, that I felt they didn’t even know me or desire to. This was a painful realization as I was begging to be known and seen for who I was, not just who they wanted me to be.  This was the epicenter of my personal earthquake.

 

My husband definitely knows me best. He has seen my best and worst and has shown me an unconditional love that I still have a hard time accepting. I pushed him away in the beginning of our relationship, subconsciously testing his love because I felt he would see the real me and soon be gone. I tried to force my husband for many years, to put a value on me based on my appearance or weight. He refused to value me based on the outside, but looked at and valued my heart. My husband has been the best teacher of love that God could have put in my life.

 

Going back to Who am I.  Can you tell I’m trying to avoid answering this question a little? Well it makes me uncomfortable, and I guess maybe it’s because I’ve been labeled most of my life and part of the recovery from my tragedy was to let those labels expire. I wanted God to tell me “Who I am”, not just others.

 

In order to effectively answer, “Who I am”, I feel I must answer Who I was.  The lessons learned in that former time, have sculpted me into “Who I am” today. I thought my identity was simply wrapped up into whom I was related. I avoided large groups of people. I was afraid of what others thought of me, and that they were ready to pick me apart instead of love me. I was afraid that people just saw me as a means to other more important people. I pretty much lived out of the fear of the hurtful things that were said to me by a select few and believed everyone saw me the same way. I was always stunned when others would say something nice about me, and I couldn’t or wouldn’t accept it.

 

My appearance was what people closest to me focused on, therefore I felt in order to be accepted, I must prioritize my looks in order to be approved of and loved. With each passing year, I became more depressed and frustrated believing this was all my life was about… Appearances.

 

“Who I am” is always a work in process, but here is where I am trying to head.

 

I want to be known for my heart, not for my appearance or belongings. I want to be known as a genuine woman who admits her shortcomings, while relying on God to help me to be courageous, loving, honest, compassionate and kind. I want to serve others instead of waiting for them to serve me. I want to trust God with all my heart. I want to see others the way God does.

 

I want to be a good mother and wife. I want my daughters to always know, my displays of love for them will never be conditional. I want them to know that I love their father and that will never change because I have made a decision to love him forever. I could go on and on, but these are the top contenders. So, Who I am today is someone who is relying on God to continue to transform me into the above.

 

Whew, enough about me. Now, Who are you? Who do you want to be? Are your daily priorities and decisions accommodating that desire or hindering it? If God took your life today would others know you for your big house, fancy car, occupation, or the size of clothes you wear? Have you let the failures in your life define you?

 

Or would others know you for your big heart for God and others, and the ability to overcome life’s obstacles and disappointments with God’s help. Would they remember you for your love for your family and friends, or for your love of work and television? Think about Who you want to be vs. Who you are now. It’s never too late to transform your identity and heart. I know it’s scary, but let others into your life and know you. Don’t let a few people’s definition of you determine your identity and value.  Ask God Who he wants you to be, for Him.