Becoming His

Jackie Rice

You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. —1 Peter 2:9

To the people at church, I’m dependable. I pretty much always say yes, no matter how stressed out I feel at the time. I am pleasant; I try incredibly hard to anticipate needs and strive never to fail.

To my family, I’m the good girl. For as long as I can remember, I’ve focused on doing the right thing. It’s clear though, that I am not perfect.

To my friends, I say yes too much. I’ve made too many choices based on what seemed right at the time. I’m not always honest with them or with myself, because the truth can be painful and I have a low tolerance for pain.

I’m the girl who reads a lot but probably watches TV more; the one who has you over for dinner and doesn’t let you bring a thing; the girl with the answers and the plan; the one who freezes summer vegetables because the idea, not so much the act, of domesticity is appealing.

Sometimes I think I need community because I don’t know who I am without it. My identity is entangled in the mess of things I do. If I say “no,” or “I can’t,” or if I stop “doing” long enough, would I hear God's voice? Would I know He was there but still not know who I am?

More and more, I find myself asking, Why do I do all these things? How did I get to this place? Who is this person? If this line of questions seems a tad dramatic, understand that I’m building a story—a story of a girl searching for identity and wondering why it’s more often found in the eyes of her “people” than the eyes of her Savior.

In my head, I know I want to be a child of the King, a disciple of my Savior. Yet my heart wanders, continuing to search for ways to be the dependable girl, the strong girl, the in-control girl. It’s a constant battle between head and heart.
Perhaps I am afraid—afraid to let God reveal who I am; afraid to be who He calls me to be; afraid of what it means to be completely, entirely sold out, hands empty, without the reins to hold onto.

Who am I becoming? As fall approaches, it seems as if a new year is beginning. The temptation to be more, to do more, is ever present. This time around, I resolve to do less and be more. I resolve to please God and not other humans. I resolve to relinquish what I want to be so that I can become who I am at my very core—His. Will you join me?