As I cleaned out some files today, I found a sticky note with the quote “they were beautiful because he called them beautiful” scribbled upon it. While I can’t place where I pulled this from, I do remember that the “he” it is speaking of is God.

That got me to thinking about identity, a recurring topic in my mind and on this blog. Identity is such a funny topic, because it seems at once so individual, so personal, so intrinsic and yet where exactly does identity come from?

What is our identity? How do we come to have it? Thinking back on my mysterious quote, it seems to reason we have identity because it was given to us. We are because He said we would be. And we are all the things that make up our identity because God was first all that He is.

We are beautiful because he called us beautiful. Would we have been beautiful without him calling us so? No, I don’t think so. Our identity, that which we hold so close because it is so . . . .us, is actually a reflection of Him. We are because He gave us our identity.

When Christ asked the disciples who the people said he was they gave answers of “John the Baptist, a prophet, Elijah.” Wrong answers. When he asked them they thought he was, Peter answered “the Christ”. I love how the book of Matthew chronicles that Jesus pretty much says “good job on getting the right answer but you didn’t figure that out on your own, you had some Holy Spirit inspiration on this one buddy”. It’s like Christ was telling them, none of you guys can understand who I am without me telling you, without God telling you my identity.

Doesn’t the same apply to us? Without God giving us identity we have none. Without him calling us man, woman, children, lost, redeemed, saints, etc. we are nothing. Without a creator there can be no creation. Without a Father there can be no children.

So when I think of who Katie is, I have to look not to myself or others for my identity but to the one who gives me identity. Who he says I am is who I will be. That isn’t found in the eyes of another, in the opinions of friends or co-workers, in how this world will write my eulogy, or even in who I think I am or want to be.

I am me, because He gave me identity . . . in Him.