Who Am I?

"Hi, I'm Sarah-Marie.  It's so nice to meet you.  <Insert other pleasantries here.>  Then comes the dreaded get-to-know-you question, "So, what do you do for a living?" 

In years past, I wouldn't have given it a second thought and confidently answered, "I’m a foreign missionary.”  Or “I’m a property manager.”  But now?

The answer to my profession and my core identity used to be connected.  Then, one day, I lost that core identity in the blink of an eye.  I could no longer be classified by what I did to earn an income.  Nor could my contribution to corporate America classify me.  Over several months, I found myself unclassified. 

I would spend hours mulling around this concept of “how I fill my days = my core identity.”  As a cow chewing its cud, I ruminated on the question, “Who am I?”  I struggled to find my purpose in this fast-spinning world.  Places and people that had long been the core of who Sarah-Marie Henson was were no longer accessible. 

For a while, I answered that dreaded question with, “I’m disabled.”  But let’s be honest.  There’s just about no better way to turn an already awkward meeting into a complete disaster than to pull out the “disability” card.  The poor person is already out of their comfort zone, even approaching someone in a wheelchair.  Stating what feels obvious doesn’t help a friendly conversation continue!  So, for all our sakes, let’s pretend that never happened. 

Next, I tried using the SAHM[1] title.  But that felt like a big lie.  Yes, I was a mother.  And yes, I stayed at home.  But I couldn’t do the traditional SAHM tasks.  I wasn’t physically strong enough.  I’m still not.  And probably won’t ever be.  So SAHM kinda got tossed out as a half-truth.   Next? 

I tried other titles like “blogger”.  But because none of my writing is monetized, that felt more like the answer to “What’s your hobby?”  Swipe left on that idea.

I tried answering with past-tense answers, like “I was in property management.” 

I tried reversing the question with, “Wow, that’s a long story.  But how about you?”   

Those had varying effects but were generally filed in File 13.

I even tried the blunt but humorous “chronically ill warrior” on for size.  But that usually worked about as well as the “disabled” answer.  Abort mission!  Return to base to re-strategize.

My identity was broken.  I was no longer a professional.  I was no longer a foreign missionary.  My role as a daughter was reversed to infancy as my parents were again my full-time caregivers.  At one point, I was a musician.  But osteoporosis in the spine and avascular necrosis in my hips and knees made sitting and playing very painful.  In a previous chapter of my life, I was a vocalist.  But one too many tubes urgently pushed down my throat have damaged my vocal cords, leaving me with only a frog croak!  I was once a friend, but living in long-term grief isn’t exactly a welcome mat for friendship survival.  And I constantly question my value as a chronically and acutely sick mother.  (More on this in another post.  But, moms, we can’t allow ourselves to discount our vital impact in our child(ren)’s life… even if ill!) 

I found myself substituting “I used to be a …” for “I am a … now.” 

When I asked Chat GPT, “What would you call a person who stays in bed a lot, doesn’t work, doesn’t contribute to the household, and doesn’t socialize?” The responses included recluse, isolated, hermit, loner, couch potato, unproductive, sedentary, and lounger.  However, it did acknowledge that if the situation was due to health reasons, words such as “convalescent” or “housebound” might be less offensive.  (Duly noted, AI.  Duly noted!)

By society’s standards, you are what you do.  And when your ability to “do” is stripped away, who you "are" also feels erased.  With my “do” gone, my “who” was dismantled.  I felt stripped bare. 

“What is the word for realizing that your world stopped spinning, but no one else’s did?”[2]

I was challenged to “start at the very beginning!  A very good place to start.”[3]

As an infant, who was Sarah-Marie?  Was I a doctor?  Was I a lawyer?  Was I a concert pianist?  Was I a mother?  Was I a renowned mediator?  Nope.  Nope.  Nope.  Nope.  And Nope.  I was a crying, pooping, dependent baby.  But was I valuable?  Did I have a place in my family and society?  Sure did!  Even though I wasn’t positively contributing to society. 

So, what is left when life strips us of all our titles, skills, hobbies, and identities? The answer was and continues to be Jesus Christ. 

How about taking a stroll down “Who I Am I Christ Lane” with me?  Ready.  Set.  Explore!

In Christ, I am a new creation.[4]  In Christ, I am forgiven of all my sins.[5]  In Christ, I have eternal life.[6]  In Christ, I am justified by faith.[7]  In Christ, I am a child of God.[8]  In Christ, I have peace with God.[9]  In Christ, I am more than a conqueror.[10]  In Christ, I have access to the Father.[11]  In Christ, I am delivered from darkness.[12]  In Christ, I am strengthened to do all things.[13]  In Christ, I am being transformed into His image.[14]  In Christ, I am equipped for good works.[15]  In Christ, I have a living hope.[16]

Wowser! That’s a lot of truth to unpack and apply like a soothing salve to our souls. But He promises that as we submit to His Lordship, we’ll receive even more "in Christ."

In Christ, I have been given a spirit of power, love, and self-discipline.[17]  In Christ, I am free from condemnation.[18]   In Christ, I am assured of my salvation.[19]  In Christ, I am given grace upon grace.[20]  In Christ, I have the Holy Spirit as my helper.[21]  In Christ, I have been given spiritual armor.[22]  In Christ, I am sanctified and made holy.[23]  In Christ, I am part of a royal priesthood.[24]

Over the next few posts, let’s examine some of those "I am" statements more closely. In these uncertain times with medical challenges, I need reminders of who I truly am - not based on what I do but on who I am in Christ. That identity is unshakeable and cannot be taken away!

And maybe, just maybe, you're going through a season where you feel like your identity is slipping away or has completely vanished. Perhaps it’s not health struggles but a change in relationship status. Maybe it got lost in the busyness of life, or perhaps you just need a refresher to share with a friend.

Whatever your reason, I hope you’ll join me on this journey to discover (or rediscover) your true identity in Christ Jesus.

From Mayo Clinic… (a chronic patient's version of Disney World),

[1] stay at home mom

[2] Hadley Vlahos, Hospice Nurse

[3] “Start at the Very Beginning" from the musical "The Sound of Music”, 1965

[4] 2 Corinthians 5:17

[5] Ephesians 1:7

[6] John 3:16

[7] Romans 5:1

[8] John 1:12

[9] Romans 5:1

[10] Romans 8:37

[11] Ephesians 2:18

[12] Colossians 1:13

[13] Philippians 4:13

[14] 2 Corinthians 3:18

[15] Ephesians 2:10

[16] 1 Peter 1:3

[17] 2 Timothy 1:7

[18] Romans 8:1

[19] 1 John 5:13

[20] John 1:16

[21] John 14:17

[22] Ephesians 6:11

[23] 1 Corinthians 1:2

[24] 1 Peter 2:9