In my 23rd year as head of school at Grace, I think I’m a pretty emotionally and spiritually healthy guy. So, if you had asked me six months ago whether any part of my identity was tied up in being the head of Grace Community School, I would have told you absolutely not. After all, I know the right answer. My identity is in Christ. He’s my Lord and Savior. My identity is not tied up in the stuff of this world.
Until this summer, when we transitioned to add the position of associate head. At that point, for the first time since I became the head, we transferred initial responsibility for our school’s academic and student life to the person who would become my chief lieutenant. This also meant that all of the principals in the school would now report directly to him instead of me.
What I didn’t think would be a problem suddenly became an internal struggle. It was as if God was very lovingly and gently prying at least two of my fingers off the steering wheel of our school. And I didn’t like it. This summer was one of turmoil for me, of discombobulation, as God started doing his kind and gracious work on my heart. But it was painful.
The problem wasn’t my associate head. I never doubted he would do a great job, and he has. He’s done more than I could have hoped for, a blessing for our school. The problem was me.
To do this job well, you have to give it everything you have. It’s a lifetime job, not a 40-hour a week one. People don’t suffer, get sick, or pass away on the weekday schedule. If we’re going to build a culture where people feel loved and seen and heard, everything I’ve ever read, heard, or believed says it has to start with me. I have to lead not just by words but by how I live. I have to become a symbol for who I thought God was calling us to be.
These are all good things, but they bring with them a very real problem. Because it’s a short walk from trying to be a living symbol for something good to finding your identity in it, to placing your hopes and dreams in it, to so aligning yourself in it that you find your self-worth, your security, and your sense of who you are in being aligned with that institution, person, or thing. That’s not good.
We were created in God’s image, for only one person to be the source of that identity for us, to reflect to us our worth, our value, our sense of self, and that we matter— that person is the God who created us. Anything else in whom we place our identity that isn’t him is the wrong thing.
So God, knowing that my greatest hope is in leading this school but not relying on it for my identity, gently pried it from my fingers this summer, helping me release it somehow. And God gave me victory there. I can now lead and love you without relying on you to fill a gap in my life you were never meant to fill, which frees me up to love you better and makes me a better leader and follower of Jesus.
We spend a lot of time at Grace focusing on our students’ identity in Christ because one of the most essential things in life is knowing who God says you are. I’ve written before about my tendency, years ago, to think of God as a benevolent taskmaster and of myself as his son, in which he was mildly displeased, and how that led me to all kinds of driven behavior to achieve a standard that I could never meet. I shared with you how, about seven years ago, I went on a spiritual retreat to see a spiritual mentor of mine. I lived in his basement for a week, and he would lead me on several guided retreats into the woods of Colorado to reflect and pray.
And, one night after dinner, he asked me to go out and pray, asking the Lord how he sees me. He sent me out on his front porch to look at the mountains and listen to the Lord. He said, “I don’t know; you may see a squirrel or something the Lord uses to speak to you.” As I sat out there, and shortly thereafter. I heard the next-door kids playing in the sprinkler in the front yard, laughing and having a good time, and the parents were watching them, laughing and enjoying them, delighting in their children’s joy. I thought, “It can’t be that easy, Lord!” But it was. Through that image, God revealed to me that I was his beloved child and that he loves and delights in me in the same way those parents were delighting in watching their kids play. Not judging, demanding, or mildly displeased, but a delighted God enjoying his children.
Your Abba delights in you. Not in “you” as perfect mom, or dad who’s really successful, not the mom or dad with the perfectly curated family, house, meal, or vacation, but the tired, weak, sometimes-really discouraged one looking back at you in the mirror right now. That’s the one he loves, his boy or girl. Messy you. Right now. Beloved.
But your identity is so much more than the Beloved, so much more specific and intimate to you than that.
In Revelation 2, Jesus says, “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone that no one knows except the one who receives it.’” The prophet Isaiah tells us in Chapter 62, “ The nations shall see your righteousness, and all the kings your glory, and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give.”
Throughout Scripture, God talks about how we who are reborn will be given a new “name,” which means a new identity. We are not the same person, individually, that we were before, when we were broken and fallen and not redeemed. God wants to reveal this new name, this identity, and have us live out of it fully.
I was reading a book this past summer: Living Fearless by Jamie Winship, that has some great concepts. In it, the author discusses this idea of a new name.
The great King David’s true identity, the name God had given him, was “shepherd-poet-warrior-king.” David had that identity from the time he was anointed by the Spirit, at around 12 years old. When he was a shepherd, fighting bears and lions in obscurity in the fields and composing psalms. All David’s life was about preparing him to fulfill that identity. Therefore, when he entered the Valley of Elah to check on his brothers and saw this great giant taunting God’s people, he didn’t stand around wondering what he should do or how he should respond. He knew what God had for him; he was ready to slay the giant and defend God’s honor because he already knew his identity. Even when his brothers and the king challenged him and doubted he could do it, it didn’t dissuade David. He knew his identity, and so he stepped into it.
Later, when David saw Saul in the cave and had the opportunity to take Saul’s life, assuming the throne through his own actions, David didn’t do it. Again, he knew his identity and that he didn’t have to take from God what God was going to give. David knew he was the shepherd-poet-warrior-king, because God had already revealed that to him.
That new name, the new identity, isn’t reserved for David alone. According to the passages above, it belongs to everyone filled with the Spirit, every new creation, which includes you. What is your name? What is your identity? God will only speak to you out of that name. He will only deal with you out of that identity, because every other identity is a false one.
We lie to ourselves about who we are all the time, telling ourselves our identity is in something other than what God says it is. Likewise, the devil lies to us about our identity, about who we are, and we believe these lies about ourselves and act on them. To believe those lies is completely self-defeating. One of the reasons it’s self-defeating is because God won’t speak to us in that false identity. He won’t address us or guide us in a false self, but only in the context of who we really are.
How do we find out our true identity—who we really are? By asking God to reveal it to us, asking, “Who do you say I am?” “What is my new name, my new identity?” In my conversations with the Lord, he has revealed to me that, for me, my name is “leader, lover, and equipper of people.” Note that it’s not “Head of Grace Community School.” This means that I can fulfill my identity in many ways that include, but are certainly not limited to, my role as head of school. Head of school, husband, father, elder at my church, coach, friend, blog writer—these are all roles I play, but they are not my identity. They are not me. They are not where the Lord speaks to me or where I abide in Him.
God also wants to reveal to you your false identities—the ways you, the devil, and others lie to you about who you are. Mine are several: “You’re a failure. No one wants you; you may be feared, but you’re not really loved. It’s all up to you, and you’re not enough.” And, yes, even “All you are is the head of that school,” which is terribly dangerous if I ever try to be anything else and makes it virtually impossible for me to ever get out of the way gracefully, someday, when the Lord is ready, and let someone take my place.
What are your false identities? When you’re tired, lonely, stressed out, or distant from the Lord, who or what does that voice in your head say you are? It’s essential to recognize those lies and speak them into existence because their power is in darkness, and they weaken in the light of truth and God’s love.
You are the Beloved. You are the child of the Most High God, and he has a name and an identity for you that he wants you to know and live in today—not some far-off time in the future, but right now, this moment. Who wouldn’t want to throw off the weight of lies and live out of all they were created to be as soon as possible? Who wouldn’t want that to start right now?
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