Uncovered: How to Reveal My Identity in Christ
Who are you and what fresh hot mess are you into now?
I imagined Christ, my redeemer asking me this often.
I have been cleaning up my blog.
I didn’t want to start one.
I was forced into it.
I have never had so much fun as I have had here on this page.
Today is the last day to make changes to my book and approve endorsements before it goes to print. I could say it is a dream come true, but I never had the dream. I never envisioned this path and I most certainly never called myself a writer.
My first official rejection letter was sent to me by my agent a year ago this month. She wanted me to read it because “it was the most encouraging rejection” she’d ever received. The trouble with my proposal wasn’t my writing… it was me.
I didn’t have one thing.
A thing.
The thing.
“Who is her audience? Is she a homeschool mom or a foster mom?”
Yes.
“Is she the mother of a juvenile delinquent or a military mom? Adoptive mom or biological?”
Yes.
Is she grieving?
Happy?
Depressed?
Anxious?
Catholic?
Church of Christ?
Happily married?
In marriage counseling?
Skinny?
Fat?
Organized?
Or a hot mess?
Um… Yes.
Yes, I can see where that is a bit much. I can see where that is a huge issue, er… uh issues.
[clickToTweet tweet=”Who are you? #hotmess #blessed #beloved” quote=”Who are you? #hotmess #blessed #beloved”]
I have issues.
Saturday morning I lay on the couch watching Netflix. I was in hysterics. I thought, if I don’t stop crying soon, I’ll just probably die.
Can you die from crying? I submit the answer is yes. As I blew my nose for the bazillionth time, I contemplated weighing myself. There’d been a significant amount of fluids lost in this bout of grief. Perhaps if I were down a pound or two I could drag myself from my grief and get the cheezits out of my hair.
Instead I yielded to to my current walk, and sobbed.
In the midst of that I remembered my rejection letter – who are you?
I would like a chance to answer.
I am a believer in Jesus Christ. I am exasperated by modern day Christianity and it’s cappuccinos and “here’s how you should live” attitudes. Wednesday morning I had seven children, Wednesday afternoon I had six. I am chubby – but I have a pretty face – I can cut you off at the knees with my words if you say that out loud. I can do this with Ninja like snark for a wealth of other issues if you’d like to play. Oh, I hate confrontation. I am organized. I am a mess. I am conservative. I am liberal. I am not very patriotic. I am a Marine mom.
Semper Fi!
I am vegan when I am not having a ribeye. I homeschool, right after I drop a kid or two off at public school. I am happy, funny, and compassionate.
I am heartbroken, dark, depressed, and irritated.
I love to spin, yoga, and kettlebell swings.
I can’t function if I miss my Sunday nap.
I love well.
I hate better.
I am an introvert-extrovert.
I love to cook.
We had pizza for dinner… three times last week.
I am altogether right where I said I would never be… and right where I need to be right now.
I propose this is the lie: That the Believer in Jesus Christ should look a certain way all of the time – our emotions, such as grief, are somehow a lack of faith, a measure of how well we love Jesus.
Tell me, who are you?
Tell me, if you ate a bowl of beans and were struck with gas pains and bloating, did Jesus still die for you on Calvary?
If your husband leaves you – and you are no longer his wife – did the baptismal water you were washed in cease to have cleansed?
If the baby you held, loved and nurtured was taken, died, or turned into a Marine, a criminal, a bride, or the last person you could have ever imagined – did you cease to be a mom?
Who am I?
I propose it is not my circumstances that define me – but who Christ says I am.
Jesus, my Redeemer.
He is comfort, bread, life, and shelter and He calls me righteous daughter even when I suck. He calls me by my name, beloved, even when I refuse to be loved. He is for me and He is with me. I don’t know what I will write next. I didn’t know I would write this until 5:00 this morning… but if I write anything let be said, I love Jesus. And that love defines me.
Whatever circumstance you woke to this morning, whatever horrible or wonderful thing you must face, cease to believe that it defines you. The formula that got me rejected doesn’t exist.
There is word and there is deed. There is religion and there is relationship. Grief and joy don’t change the fact that we are out of milk.
Our current circumstances do not undo the completed work of the Cross.
Carry on with your messes and your folly, I’ll try and think of some random nonsense for tomorrow.
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami
Jesus went to the territory near the town of Caesarea Philippi, where he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” “Some say John the Baptist,” they answered. “Others say Elijah, while others say Jeremiah or some other prophet.” “What about you?” he asked them. “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”Matthew 16:13-16
You might also like: Christian Confidential and Fresh Hate and Jesus Fish
You must read and share THE CHRISTIAN BURQA
Check out this great book I am reading!!!!
So many people define themselves only by their careers-
Better to be defined as a child of the living God!
Yes!!
He is who He says He is…..and I am His!
Have a beautiful day!
Beautifully written and the utter honesty of it all is what makes us love you! God blesses us with your words.
Thank you
Dear Jami,
I so appreciated this. I have been frustrated for many years by our case of mistaken identity. We believe we are to be seen a perfect Christians because that is how we bring people to “church”. There is a phrase that appears in the New Testament very often: in Christ (or logical variants). When you were baptized, you were baptized into Christ and put on Christ. (Gal. 3:26-29) Like a treasure that has to be protected, you died and were hidden with Christ in God (Col. 3:1-4). Grab a more literal translation and mark all the times that “in him”, “in Christ”, etc. appear in Ephesians and 1 John. You dear sister I’ve never met are in Christ. He is who you are. Like the fingers on my body can be recognized as fingers, they are still me. You (Eph. 2:10) were God’s workmanship in Christ Jesus with works to do. You are the temple of the living God in Christ.
I don’t know the particulars of your grief and turmoil. We lost our 36 year old daughter in May, 2016 to septic shock. She got sick at 8am and was dead by 8pm. The ONLY thing that kept us alive was knowing 1) She was IN CHRIST before and is WITH CHRIST now, 2) God knows what it is like to lose a child, and 3) it is ok to suffer (1 Peter).
I suspect this is too much, but I feel compassion for you. I wish we could comfort you. God can.
There is a phrase throughout the Bible: Be strong and very courageous.
In His Love
Oh my. I am so sorry, yet chills cover me to know your baby is with Jesus. Anymore, I am altogether jealous of those who rest with Him. He is… everything. Thank you for your words. Thank you for your compassion – may it be returned to you relentlessly. Jami
Thank you for the tears, yet again! You didn’t know what you would write this morning because you are being an empty vessel waiting for Him to fill you only to pour it out again. And you do. He speaks through you. He heals through you. He loves through you. And He speaks exactly what I need to hear through you. You wrote this hours before I prayed telling Him how much I hate that I suck and mess up all the time. A few hours later I read this. Thank you a million times for being a willing vessel. ❤️
❤️
When my Baby-Marine died 93 months ago I lost my identity. Although she was the only one to meet our Savior face to face that day, I also lost my son-in-love and first born grandchild the same day. He freaked and fled with my g-baby and cut off all communication until just recently. I still have another wonderful, loving and living son close by, and now his bride (my daughter-in -love) that I adore! But when my daughter died, so did I. I still don’t want to be breathing, but for the sake of future grand babies I persevere. Oh, and because I am a child of the Living God. And I have a sort of recently diagnosed incurable, progressive disease, called multiple sclerosis. Fun times. But my Savior lives and is my hope and strength. So I persevere. I persevere for my addiction, long, long walks in the woods, and eating healthy as long as it includes chips and candy, and mocha coffee. And especially my husband who says lovingly, if you leave me, I’m coming too and carrying your bags. Yet, I grieve. I grieve my Baby Marine, and normal body, and normal mental health, and the grief suffocates so much sometimes I can scarcely breathe.
But God.
And mocha coffee with a chunk of fudge.
And Jesus.
Oh love… I am so sorry. May Jesus cover you
The challenge to remember who we are is a moment by moment each minute of each hour of each day. Society is constantly challenging us to walk away from what should be our true path.
Thank you for your help in guiding.
Oh my Jami, I swear we were born of the same womb. Different details, same messes. Love your humor, your snark but most of all your all-or-nothing love for Jesus. Stay strong!! Next time I meltdown because I’m having the “worst day ever” again I hope I remember your line about maybe going to weigh yourself because afterall you did lose ALOT of fluids with that cry. Honestly, where does it all come from?! My body can’t metabolize, focus and sleep when it should but I have never complained because of a shortage of tears!
From one adored daughter to another <3
Bless you sister.
Love this. Thx
There is only one way you can know me, and that is through Jesus, as He gives you the words to write.
How glad I am that I one day, reading a post my granddaughter wrote, I found you. Keep letting Jesus lead you.
God bless you.
God bless you….
this has really blessed me. thanks for being a blessing. may your oil never run dry.
❤️