Tag Archives: Who Am I

I Am Yours

The quest for individuality continues. Its vague evanescence beckons, “Follow me.” So we follow, adopting whatever lifestyle or actions it tells us will help demonstrate our individuality.

We wear clothing that we think will somehow express who we are. We look for things that will make us feel complete: friendships or relationships, drinking or eating, gaming or partying – ever in search of that something that will make the heart whole.

Still, the question beckons from deep inside: Who am I?

The answer we give is determined by many factors; sadly, it is rarely determined correctly.

We can search on the internet, “Who am I?” and find a slew of self-discovery questions. Answer them, press submit, and discover who and what you are meant to be. Perhaps at times these are helpful, but more often than not we would probably like to respond with, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

And the quest continues. Who am I?

We can seek the answer from others. Some of them might be honest and tell you what they see. Some might be hurtful, or seek their own gain from the relationship. Some might be just trying to discover who they are themselves. Some might not care at all, and leave you feeling that you really don’t matter to anyone. We mirror the reflection that they send back, leaving us more confused than before.

Who am I?

How can I find myself, discover who I am meant to be? Is there a “meant to be”? A destiny? Or is it all just going to fade away into nothingness sooner or later?

Not long ago, I went through a time that my heart felt both full and empty, and I felt broken, fallen and confused. The future was a bleak and colorless blur. And I felt the purpose that drove me from the time I was a child was nothing more than a hazy question with no answer.

I heard a song that began with the question, “Who am I?”

A fading flower, a wispy wave, a momentary mist…and yet it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about who I am, or what I’ve done. “But because of what You’ve done…” “Because of Who You are…”

The realization, both humbling and beautiful, reached deep into my heart and picked up the fallen pieces.

“You’ve told me who I am.”

I finally saw who that was, and knew that nothing else really mattered.

“I am Yours.”

When we belong to Him, the quest ends and we find ourselves – loved, cherished, and chosen for a purpose.

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Our Deepest Fear

Our Deepest Fear

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. …
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.” – Marianne Williamson

Like a Bird in a Cage

Bird in a Cage“Who am I?”

It is a question we can never fully answer, for we see life — and ourselves — through a tinted window of sorts. But one day, one day we will see and know as we are known.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote the following poem. He was a man who was willing to sacrifice his life and future for what he believed in. [Read more about Dietrich Bonhoeffer on Wikipedia]. He was a German who opposed the genocide of the Jews during WWII. Because he was not afraid to speak out against the evils of his time, he was arrested, sent to prison, and hanged less than a month before Germany surrendered.

In his poem, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrestles to understand who he is — that which people saw of him, amazed at his cheerfulness, calmness and strength in the face of his hopeless plight in prison. Or was he what he knew of himself — “restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage”?

Are we what others see of us? What we know of ourselves? Is this all we are? Or are we more? More, perhaps, than we can even imagine?

 

“Who Am I?”

Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a Squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equally, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person to-day and to-morrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!

— Dietrich Bonhoeffer