Lots of talk these days about identity. Proof—using authorized means through authentic channels—to confirm legitimacy. The requirement for legal proof of the right to qualify, partake, interact, interject, or participate in—well, just about everything—is being challenged on every front.
I’d like to say that I don’t get it; that I don’t understand how a person can become so delusional, confused, and unaware of the obvious. Then the Holy Spirit reminded me.
It’s as clear today as if it happened only three days—not three decades—ago. There I was, putting my morning face on and listening to the voice inside my head that had been my constant companion for the better part of 20 years. A companion, seemingly innocuous, conceived at the piano bench and invited to “help,” I thought, by shaming, berating, and abasing my halting attempts, fumbles, and failures.
Phrases like, “Don’t mess up again, you idiot.” “That wasn’t as bad as before, but sure not good.” “You’re never going to get it.” “Just quit.” “Your ‘practice’ is making everyone miserable.” Words of discouragement masquerading as allies.
Before long, the voice switched to first-person pronouns.
“I’m a messed-up idiot.” “I’m never going to be good at anything.” “I’m so stupid; I’ll never amount to or accomplish anything.” “FAILURE!” “I’m so disgustingly ugly—thank heavens for makeup!”
It’s probably no surprise that the keyboard was never conquered, and that the inner voice took its mission into my other endeavors. Its tirade was on a permanent loop. Solitude and silence became the invitation it jumped at.
Then, right in the middle of the “thank heavens for makeup” portion of the mantra, my Heavenly Father interrupted the flow.
“I don’t appreciate you speaking to My daughter in that manner.”
That single sentence carried with it authority, truth, correction, discipline, revelation, understanding, and insight into the meaning of 1 Corinthians 6:19b–20a:
You are not your own; you were bought at a price.
He went on to say, “You wouldn’t say those things about another human being. Stop saying them about yourself.”
Well, you better believe that jerked the slack out of my reins!
Somewhere along the way, I had traded truth for lies. After all, the liar had plenty of proof and ironclad reasoning. Plus, I had come to believe I was being humble—keeping pride at bay. Yes, the reasoning solidified the justification.
Except the reasoning failed to factor in my Creator, the Source of my authentic identity, and His declaration over His creation—that my value was proven by the price He paid to ransom, redeem, and purchase this life He’d given me to live.
I am His, bought with a price. I am who He says I am. That’s my identity.
Once the ugly was evicted, solitude became a welcomed place of peace. When the enemy is silenced, God’s voice is heard more clearly.
I am my Father’s. So are you. The Cross Changed Everything!
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