Searching for my identity

Divorce is terrible and vicious, but it’s not the end of the world. This is something a friend told me when I left my marriage. My life changed permanently on 7/30/12 when I found out that events happened, which lead to the demise of my marriage. This unexpected and life changing experience forced me to grow emotionally and built up my resilience to a level I didn’t know existed within me. If someone had told me a year ago what I would go through, I would have said I couldn’t make it through this, but as the events unfolded my support system created a wall of strength for me and I toughened up. I like to joke that “the tough Sarah” is here to stay. Sometimes she wanes a bit, but she’s not going anywhere.

As the months have passed and I’ve become stronger on a number of fronts, I’ve often searched for my identity. So many of the adjectives I previously used to describe myself no longer  describe me. In our world dictated by social media, we often think in terms of short phrases to portray who we are as a person. The 140 character limit on Twitter soars past our news feed and into our inner being.  Some of these short phrases that once applied to me, such as “#wife,” are gone for the foreseeable future, while others, such as “#runner,” I hope will return this summer. When I can run fast again, I hope to do so simply out of the sheer joy I feel when I lace up my spikes and run fast around a track. Terms such as “Christian,” never left me, they just got a little beat up, but underneath the mush, they stuck. With these changes, I’ve added new terms such as #slowswimmer.

 

From a young age, I have seen my primary identity as a child of God, saved by grace. But what happens when you know God on a cognitive level, but feel distant from Him and feel numb half of the time anyway? The

distance between your head and heart seem so far. How can your heart come in contact with your intellect? Yet this is supposed to be my identity? How does that work out? Injustices happen that don’t seem fair.

Then, what happens when secondary parts of your identity—such as your relationship status or running—are taken away? At one point I was conversing with God and laughing to myself thinking, okay, you’ve taken everything away, why not just take the rest too. The book of Job came to mind.

Pair this identity crisis with many other changes and you start to wonder, “Who am I? What am I doing? What is my purpose?”

When these questions popped into my head, I nursed the numbness with my quest for meaning.

As my search continued, I learned some things about life, people, and the world. I am learning to live without always knowing what tomorrow may bring.  I am not changing the world each day. I want to change the world by doing things like fighting poverty and helping the mentally ill; however, I am not taking on such lofty projects at the moment.  But, I’ve made great strides in my healing. I am ready to move on with many different aspects of my life.

So much of the shame that penetrated my identity when I filed for divorce is removed. I know someone wronged me and violated me, and I feel a sense of injustice about this deep shame that was brought to my name. But I am trying not to let it define me as I seek to regain back my sense of dignity. My new identity is forming and I’m hoping shame won’t be part of it. My Christian faith remains, although still very fragile at many points. My faith sits on a beam I’m hoping never tips over.  The other day I tweeted, “If my relationship with God was dependent on my emotions, I'd be in trouble.”

I now am more sensitive to personal injustices and injustices in the world. They just seem so wrong, and I want to stand up and fight them all. Seeing people wronged and pushed down breaks my heart and crushes my soul. I personalize many of these injustices as I think back on my own story. Much of my innocence was lost during this process.

Instead of changing the world everyday, I am trying to appreciate each day, and the small joys it brings.  A few of the small joys that bring constant smiles to my face include time with friends, noon swims (although rare, they are so joyful and leave me smiling all day), walks, good wine, runs with friends, friends making me coffee, and good books. Hopefully in between the busyness and these small joys, I will still be able to impact the world positively in small ways. The ways may be smaller, but touching a few individual lives may just have to do for now as I search for my purpose. Maybe this God I also feel so distant from so many days shows up in these small joys he allows me to have each day?

After what I have been through in the last year: a messy divorce, being wronged in more ways than I thought possible, my stuff in storage for part of the year, staying with friends, and many other things that pushed my uncertainty to the max, I am grateful for the chance to work at a startup, a stable living situation that—although not permanent—provides a healthy environment for now, a church that loves me and the messiness that comes with me, and friends/ family that are so amazing.

Yep, life goes on. But it doesn’t just go on; it can be happy and filled with small joys. I may always be a work in progress, but that’s the comfort of a relationship with Jesus, high and lows come and go, and the sanctification process marches on. Cheers, sweet friends, and thank you.