The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I have spent over 50 hours sitting in various trainings in preparation for the start of a new school year. I've learned how to use model drawings to solve word problems, discovered how to use color coding to teach the writing process to even the youngest students, and reviewed (and reviewed and reviewed) effective teaching strategies. I've met around 50 new K-12 teachers. I've unloaded over 24 boxes and organized the contents in a new classroom.
In the midst of it all, it's so easy to forget who I am.
This past year I have repeatedly allowed my situations, my relationships, my issues, and especially my job title define me. The problem is, I'm inevitably left feeling stressed and discouraged.
A lot of times I bring it upon myself. I get too caught up in my job performance or my goals or my relationships and feel distressed when anything in those areas isn't perfect (which it never is). Other times, however, I let outside things tell me who I am; just this week I was told at a new teacher training, "You are only as good as your most difficult student, your most difficult parent, your most difficult challenge."
The truth is, I am NOT only as good as my most difficult student--or even my most successful student--because those things don't define me. In fact, I am actually a sinner, a failure, a weak girl who has been redeemed, forgiven, and strengthened by Christ; my identity is now found in Him. As Tullian Tchividjian says in his book Jesus + Nothing = Everything, "Your identity is firmly anchored in Christ's accomplishment, not yours; his strength, not yours; his performance, not yours; his victory, not yours. Your identity is steadfastly established in his substitution, not in your sin" (pp. 132-133). Also, says Tchividjian,
because Jesus was strong for me, I was free to be weak;
because Jesus won for me, I was free to lose;
because Jesus was someone, I was free to be no one;
because Jesus was extraordinary, I was free to be ordinary;
because Jesus succeeded for me, I was free to fail. (p. 24)
I love that. I am free to be ordinary, weak, even a failure because of what Christ has done. It's not about what I can do on my own in this life, it's about Christ's extravagant love and grace and what he has accomplished.
Louie Giglio recently did a series about identity at Passion City Church (I love listening to the podcast.) For 30 days, that church sent out an email with a Bible verse that proclaims who we are in Christ. At the top of every email it said,
Good Morning... just wanted to remind you who you are in Christ:
God-designed, purpose-intended, significant, lavishly-loved, prince/princess, son/daughter of the King of the Universe.
That is who I am. My identity is in Christ. My prayer is that I would continue to believe that this year, and that you will, too, even as a million other things try to define us.
