A Case of Misplaced Identity

Free illustration courtesy of Pixabay.com.

“Single mom” – Roughly eighteen months ago, this is the title that I chose to take on.

Although it wouldn’t have been wise, I could have chosen to not take it on. I was not physically abandoned, as some women have been. It was my choice – my choice to say “no more” and walk away. I’ve never regretted that decision, only that I was put in the situation where that decision was necessary.

From Zero to Hero
However, even though it was my choice, it was not a title that I wanted. Those first several months, I cried every day. “God, I can’t do this! This isn’t what I dreamed my life would be like. God, I don’t want to be a single mom!”  

It became an identity that I never wanted. Whenever I’d introduce myself, I’d cringe as I said, “I’m a single mom,” always fearful of what the other person must think. And that was wrong.

But, as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I began to accept it. Perhaps, being a single parent wasn’t so bad – it does have its perks. And, for the most part, people were kind and gracious and encouraging.

Then, one day, the identity that I’d never wanted turned into a badge of honor. “Hi, I’m a single mom, also known as the next Marvel superhero! I can do it all, without the help of a husband.” That was wrong too.

Mistaken Identity
You see, I’d once again tied my identity to my circumstance.

It’s so easy to do – student, girlfriend, daughter, fiancé, professional, friend, wife, mom, stay-at-home mom, working mom, single mom, divorcee, church member. It’s just second nature to tie who we are and our worth to what we do or the roles we fill. None of those titles are bad or harmful…until you adopt them as your identity.

And, it’s not just single moms who struggle with this. It’s the new mom who feels like a failure because of her decision to return to work. Or the young lady who needs to have a man in order to feel fulfilled and beautiful. It’s human nature. But, it’s wrong.

My identity is what would remain if everything in my life disappeared. No more school? No more student. No more relationships? No more daughter, wife, mom. No more church? No more church member. No more job? No more professional.

The Real Me
The only thing remaining – my one, true identity – would be my relationship with God. My identity in Christ. Who and what God says I am…

Adopted child of God. Chosen. Accepted. Redeemed. Overcomer. Beautiful. Loved. Worth dying for!

I still struggle with remembering who I really am, but I’m learning. It’s one thing to know it, and an entirely different thing to act in that knowledge. But I’m getting there.

I’ve accepted and am even enjoying my current role as a single mom. In the future, my roles will change. I won’t always (fingers-crossed) be a student. My professional life will evolve. I might even, someday, take on the title of wife or mom to more children.

However, the first thing that I want to be identified as is a Follower of Christ, because He isn’t worried about what others think and He truly is the ultimate superhero!

The Scarlett D

Free illustration courtesy of Pixabay.com.

Have you ever felt marked? Like a giant symbol was tattooed on your forehead, forever identifying you as a failure? Informing everyone of your imperfections, your flaws, your past.

That’s what it feels like to be a divorced a woman in the Church today.

Imagine my surprise when I – the almost-lifetime Christian, homeschooled, proverbial “good girl” – discovered that there were, in fact, two unforgivable sins. Certainly, never submitting your life and failing to recognize Christ as your Savior was the first. But, there was, apparently, a second one I never knew about.

(For those new to or unfamiliar with Christianity, there is only ONE “unforgivable” sin – the first one I listed. I don’t want my sarcasm to mislead you!)

Divorce.
At the sound of that two-syllable word, grace seemed disappeared. Logic went out the window. Kindness, empathy, and humility were no where to be found. What a shock it was to this young woman, who’d been through so much already, to see this side of the Church.

Maybe I just misunderstood some of those people who hurt me. Perhaps I projected my own identity crisis onto them and their actions. But at least some of what I perceived was real.

Suddenly, I saw my fellow believers – Christ’s Body – through new eyes. The eyes of the young prostitute who’s had too many abortions to count. The eyes of the gay and lesbian community. The eyes of the atheist who’s only known scorn, judgment, and condemnation. No wonder they either shrink back or lash out when they come in contact with Christians.

The pain and rejection from this hurt almost as badly the collapse of my marriage. It shook me to my core. Had I believed in a lie all this time? Was this how I’d treated others before my own crisis? Was this how Christ saw me?

Beautiful Grace.
But, in the crumbling of everything I knew, or thought I knew, Christ was the one thing I wouldn’t, couldn’t, let go of. And, praise Him, He didn’t let go of me.

“But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor. 12:9)

And, NO,  friends, He indeed did NOT see me that way.

When some saw DAMAGED; He saw BEAUTY.

When some saw BROKEN; He saw REDEEMED.

When some saw SULLIED; He saw HIS BELOVED.

And, there were still those believers – gracious members of Christ’s Church – that saw me through Christ’s eyes too. In fact, the further I travel along this road, I’m discovering that there are many, many Christians who respond as Christ responds.

There are still scars. There were still relationships damaged and lost. There are still times that I walk through my wonderful church with my little girl and feel branded. But I’m learning that the Scarlett D I once thought would forever be emblazoned across my chest doesn’t define me. 

It’s not my identity. It’s not what Christ sees. And, it’s not what His faithful followers see either.

Encouragement and Promises

Free graphic courtesy of Pixabay.com.

In the last year and a half, I’ve clung to God’s Word tighter than ever before. Something about your world falling apart does that to a person.

I know that some people tend to run away from God during times of crisis, but, for whatever reason, I ran to Him, and He has been so faithful to be there to comfort me.

In the early months, when I wrestled with the idea of divorce, I was so afraid that I would make the wrong decision and disappoint God. I couldn’t bear the thought of grieving Him or Him pulling away from me. I’d already felt rejection and judgment on so many fronts – to lose Him would be my undoing.

But, I learned some things I will never forget. I wasn’t going to disappoint God – He already fully understand my own humanity. Because I had accepted Christ, I was covered in His blood and no choice of mine was going to remove myself from His hands.

He was, indeed, grieving, but not because of me. God was grieving WITH me – He was as gentle and comforting with my broken heart as mother with her newborn. And He promised to carry me through these circumstances, never leaving me for one second.

God led me to many wonderful scriptures during this time of my life, several of which came from the book of Isaiah. They have meant so much to me that I wanted to shared them with anyone else going through tough times.

• You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock. (26:3-4)
  
  
• “You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off”; fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (41:9b-10)
  
  
• For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I am the one who helps you.” (41:13)
  
  
• Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. (43:1b-3a)
  
  
• Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. (43:18-19)
  
  
• Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands… (49:15-16a)
  
  
• Fear not, for you will not be ashamed; be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced; for you will forget the shame of your youth, and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more. For your Maker is your husband, the Lord of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called. For the Lord has called you like a wife deserted and grieved in spirit, like a wife of youth when she is cast off, says your God. (54:4-6)
  
  
• And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. (58:11)

Flashbacks

Free graphic courtesy of Pixabay.com.

I just heard the sound of yelling and slamming doors outside my window. As I peek through the curtains, I see the new neighbors across the street. He’s about to drive away. She comes out the front door, gesturing to him. He gets out the car, they stand toe-to-toe, obviously exchanging heated words, then go back inside the house. I assume their little girl is inside the house.

All of a sudden, the feelings come surging back – anxiety, vigilance, fear. My chest feels tight and my head pounds. I’m on high alert, ready to grab my baby out of her bed and flee. All of those emotions – even though I’m perfectly safe. 

In that instance, I’m drowning in the hopelessness and helplessness I once felt.

I fear what could be happening behind that closed door – projecting what I’ve been through onto what’s happening across the street. I hurt for the little girl – pray she’s asleep and blissfully ignorant of what’s happening outside her room.

I don’t know what’s really going. Perhaps the wife did something and the husband is justifiably angry. Maybe he never gets upset, and this is a rarity in their marriage. I don’t know. My feelings for them could be misplaced and my understanding of the situation could be wrong. But, that doesn’t stop the flashbacks.

And, it doesn't stop the realization that I still fear it could happen to me – and to my daughter – again. I could choose poorly again, I could allow us to be subjected to that life again. I have the power, the potential, to place us right back into those same circumstances.

So I hear my heart whisper, “Never again. Never again will I allow that happen. Never will I trust another man. There will not be a next time. It isn’t worth it.”

Yet, I know that isn't fair. To live overshadowed by fear is not truly living. And it’s not the life Christ has called me to. Perhaps I never will remarry, but it needs to be because that’s what I feel God is leading me to do. It needs to be because I’m choosing the live the best life possible. Not because I’m afraid.

Progress is being made. My heart is slowly lowering its defenses. Learning to dream again. Hope again. The past year and a half hasn't been without improvement. Yet there’s still so far to go.

The truth is – I want to love again. I want to be loved. But love requires vulnerability. Love opens the gates to pain, and fear, and disappointment. You can’t have one without the other.

So, I sit in my chair. Continuing to jump at sounds from outside. Glancing out my blinds every little while to look across the street. Trying to calm down by reasoning with myself – pointing out that I’m fine and my daughter is fine. All the while, still wondering, when will the flashbacks stop.

The Truth Comes Out

Free illustration courtesy of Pixabay.com.

It's been two years since my last post. Two years of shattered dreams, broken hearts, and simply surviving. My life now looks NOTHING like it did two years ago. But, my life two years ago honestly didn't look anything like how I portrayed it, either

I didn't mean to lie, or mislead, or even hide the truth. There was only a small part of me, buried deep inside, that realized that my reality and what I actually portrayed to the world weren't the same. Years of fear, manipulation, pain, rejection, and denial will do that to you. When the truth is too painful, too frightening to face, you force yourself to live in a fantasy. And that fantasy becomes your safe place, even as it also becomes your prison.

At first, in the early months of marriage, I didn't know anything was wrong. I felt like something wasn't right - that this wasn't what I expected - but what newlywed doesn't feel that way? But, it was more than that. Slowly the codependence, the manipulation, the instability, the lies grew. Like a frog that's placed in cold water before its slowly brought to a boil, I didn't realize the danger before it was almost too late.

But, God is good!
He IS The Rescuer, The Redeemer, The Warrior - and He was faithful.

"Beloved, I will not in any way fail you nor give you up nor leave you without support. I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree leave you helpless nor let you down nor relax my hold on you." (Hebrews 13:5 AMP)

"For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who is not partial and takes no bribes. He executes justice for the fatherless and widows (husbandless), and loves the sojourner (the wanderer), giving them food and clothes." (Deut. 10:17-18)

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior." (Isaiah 43:1-3)

Somehow, only by His provision, my sweet girl and I escaped. And, while those five years did leave wounds, they were fewer and shallower than they might have been.

The truth is...
My life looks NOTHING like it did two years ago. It's exponentially better! I now appreciate what I so long ago took for granted. Safety. Sanity. Peace. Stability. A life without fear, anxiety, trauma.

Like a wild horse, retaking its freedom after years of fences, gates and masters....Like a bird, taking to the skies after looking at the world through the bars of its cage....Freedom is slowly turning my wounds into scars and those scars into wings.