Who am I? (Part 1)

Three simple words form the basis for the most important question we can ask ourselves.

Who am I?

The question seems simple on the surface. For example, my name is Matt; I’m Paige’s husband, and I work as an accountant. Easy.

If we dig a little deeper, though, the question becomes profoundly more difficult to answer, and more important. Who am I, really? Deep down, who is Matt McMichen and what is he here for? Likewise, who are you and what are you here for? Why do you exist?

What My Dad Taught Me about Identity

I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad lately. Last month was the one-year anniversary of his passing, so he’s been on my mind. I am who I am today thanks in large part to his influence and what he taught me over the years, but one lesson in particular stands out above the rest, a lesson about identity – a lesson about who I am and why it’s important to answer that question.

Who am I?

The lesson came when I was in 3rd grade, and I honestly believe it changed my life. I didn’t know it at the time, but it did. I was a horrible kid back then, so I constantly found myself sitting across the desk from my principal, trying to justify my rotten actions, and then begging for a different punishment when he reached for the wooden paddle (this was back when principals could still spank deserving kids such as myself).

One afternoon, I found myself in that same room, sitting across that familiar desk, trying again in vain to talk my way out of punishment, but this time I had gone too far. I’m ashamed to admit it, but my undeveloped and foolish 3rd grade brain thought it a good idea to try and beat up an innocent kid from my class. For no good reason.

Thankfully, my plan backfired and our teacher caught me and sent me straight to the principal’s office, where, to my surprise, he didn’t reach for the wooden paddle hanging from the wall behind his desk. Instead, he reached for the phone, and my heart sank. And then it sank further still when I realized that my dad had been called, instead of my mom, and was forced to leave work early to come get me.

I was terrified of him knowing what I had done – or attempted to do – but not for the reason you may think. I hated the thought of letting him down, and I knew even then that this news would crush him.

And it did.

That drive home broke my 3rd grade heart, as I watched my dad stare blankly ahead in utter silence with disappointment written in big block letters across his face.

I thought for sure that a spanking – this time by belt – awaited me at home, but my dad offered me something far greater instead. He offered me a lesson on identity. He sat me down, looked me in the eyes, and he said, “Son, that’s not who you are. I’m disappointed, because I know you have a big heart, and you care about other people. But what you did today – that’s not you.”

And that was it. Those few, simple words changed me.

Who am I? My answer to that question became – I’m Matt McMichen, son of Archie McMichen; a kid with a big heart that cares for other people. According to my dad, that’s who I was already, and so that’s who I wanted to be. From that day forward, I tried to live my life in a manner consistent with that definition of self – big heart, cares for others.

Why Identity is Important

Now then, this lesson from my dad was important not because it really taught me who I was. A kid with a big heart is not an identity. Deep down, that’s not who I am – that’s not why I exist.

What my dad taught me instead was the importance of answering that question. He showed me that our actions – every decision we make and every step we take – flow from our definition of self. Who we believe we are dictates what we do. My dad wanted me to be a good kid that cared about other people, but he didn’t sit me down that day and give me a list of dos and don’ts. He didn’t say, “If you want to be a good person, do this but don’t do that.” He simply told me who I was in his eyes – who I was meant to be according to him. And based on that understanding and belief about myself, I then lived my life.

Now obviously, I needed to know what someone with a big heart did, generally, and he taught me that as well (by example, mind you), but the formula was different from most. Most people would say, do A + B if you want to be C. My dad instead said, you are C, and what C does is A + B.

That’s the lesson he taught me. Identity is important. The way we see and define ourselves is paramount to the way we live our lives, because our life choices and actions will directly flow from that definition.

Fast forward nearly 7 years, when God opened my eyes and said, “Come and follow me,” I already had a foundation to understand what it meant to follow Jesus.

Jesus doesn’t just give us a list of dos and don’ts. He gives us our identity. He tells us who we are – who we’re meant to be. Sons. Daughters. Children of God. That’s who we are.

God didn’t say to me, “Matt, if you want to be my son, then here’s a list of things you can and can’t do.” No, God looked at me – thanks to what Jesus did on the cross – and said, “Mine!” He declared me His son, not on the basis of anything I did or could ever do, but on the basis of His own love for me. God gave me true identity as His son, and through His word He has taught me what a son of God does. He told me I am C, and what C does is A + B.

So, who am I, really?

I am a son of God.

Now I just need to live like it. Sounds simple, right? Identity drives action. My identity is child of God, so I should live as such. Unfortunately, though, I often don’t. Does this mean that’s not really my identity or is there something else at play here? If this is truly who I am, then why don’t I live that way most of the time? I’ll share my thoughts on this matter in Part 2, soon to follow, but I’d love to know your thoughts in the meantime. Please feel free to drop a comment with your viewpoint.