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How to have a truly happy new year.

For the first time in years, I don’t remember my New Year’s resolution from January. Usually, I write it down in my journal or on a note I stick to my mirror. There’s been many of those dog-eared sticky notes from years past. The year of contentment. Speaking life. We passed pancakes across the breakfast table on January 1st this year. “What do you want from 2018?” I can’t remember my answer. I know what I didn’t want though. I didn’t want to walk into her office and share the parts of my life I’m inclined to hide. I didn’t want to Facetime her the day after she delivered her baby that never breathed. I didn’t want to spend four months wondering how I’d walk into her house on Christmas day and see her empty chair. I didn’t want to go on another first date that led nowhere. We sit across from each other in a little coffee shop in Colorado, picking at a charcuterie board. “When I think about all of the things I have left to go through,” her voice cracks....
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The Christian Identity


She brings it up over the phone when it’s almost midnight and my eyes are heavy. “Would your identity still exist if everything but Christ was stripped away?”

Or would you just be a shadow, a shell? A question mark.

I think about this as I scroll through my personal website on a Wednesday evening.  

What if my brand fell apart? 

I remember sitting at the end of the conference table in a giant meeting room on a hot August day. “Describe yourself in three words,” the interviewer said. 

And I had my words ready. Aspects of my identity. 

I was a five-year-old terror when I tore apart my older brothers’ Lego castle. I remember that whole beautiful castle, scattered across the floor. Every aspect. 

Until there was no castle left.

And I try to build my identity like a Lego castle. Christ is the foundation, yes. But the outer parts, the draw-bridge, the castle walls, and the flags are the obvious aspects of my identity: writer, daughter, musician.

And what if some unsupervised toddler throws a tantrum? And my blocks are scattered.

What if I lose the one thing (other than Christ) that gives me my greatest sense of self? 

What if those three words that define me no longer apply?

What if I lose my job and no one will hire me?

People ask me what I do and I have no answer for them.

What if I grow old and I lose my ability to climb mountains and canoe?

I lose my mental strength.

What if I’m disfigured? I suffer from brain damage?

I don't want Christ to simply be a part of my identity.

I want Christ as my identity.

“For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Colossians 3:3 

I want to be hidden with Christ in God. (The Safe Place.)

When everything falls apart, no one notices anything different because Christ was always the star of the show.




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