of Christ—I who am

There's a message bouncing around my head about identity, somewhat related to yesterday's musings. There lies within our souls a need to identify itself -- it's the reason so many hippies talk about taking sabbaticals and traveling the world to "find themselves". And if you find hippie speak ridiculous, hello pot, kettle wants your ear. We all place our identities somewhere. Sports fans paint their faces and buy team gear to say something about themselves. Type A career-focused folks think their toil translates into wealth and private comfort and careers that say something about the toiler. Models think their skin-deepness is deeper, that it speaks to an inner person. What is Facebook if not our public declaration of "Look at me! I'm somebody!"

In the end, our activities will fail us. Our toil will tire us. Our looks will fade like the wildflower. And all the social network contacts we have will not construct a true image of who we are. There is no human self-identification that will last beyond the memories of friends or history books, nor mean something at an eternal level.

Except who we are in Christ Jesus. And who we are in Christ is not rooted in something within us, but rather in something within God. That we are His beloved, the apple of His eye, His children -- these all emanate from His central nature as perfect love rather than from the less-than-perfect nature of ourselves.

You can chase those championship rings and that next promotion and that extra-smooth skin and that 500th friend. As for me, I am my Beloved's and My Beloved? My Beloved is mine.