Who Am I?

I’m convinced there’s nothing more unnerving than realizing you might not know the people close to you as well as you thought.

I remember when the truth about world-famous Christian apologist Ravi Zacharias came into the light, exposing him as a sexual predator and abuser. After growing up listening to his special on the Focus on the Family radio show and hearing him praised by the Christian community, the news made me stop in my tracks and wonder, “Is this the same Ravi Zacharias? There must be some mistake.” But as the evidence stacked up against him, I felt my reality shift uncomfortably.

I experienced that same feeling – albeit on a much larger scale – when I heard some allegations against someone I’d known all my life. It felt like someone had yanked the floor out from under me, leaving me to flail in isolation, unsure of which way was up and which was down. If I didn’t know something like that about someone so close to me, how could I ever trust my own discernment again?

But once in a while, I’ll feel my perception of myself slipping. On those days, it’s hard to trust my own feelings. It’s hard to believe my own experiences.

Am I depressed, or just not getting enough sleep?

Am I irritable, or have I just not been taking my vitamins?

Am I sad, or just hormonal?

Am I mean, or do I just have repressed issues that haven’t been addressed?

Is this an anomaly or is this who I am?

I love my kid… So why is it so hard to be around him?

I’m a pretty happy person, so why do I cry so much?

Do I need therapy or just a vacation?

Am I bi-polar or just an unfinished, messy project?

Some days I can do all the things: laundry, dishes, food, computer work, creative work, active parenting, and get together with friends. Other days, I crawl into bed, exhausted, and realize I didn’t accomplish anything all day.

Some days I work out, volunteer at church, take on projects at work, meal prep for the whole week and bake some biscuits while I’m at it. Other days, I sit and scroll on my phone, watching fitness videos and funny videos and cat videos, while at the same time ignoring texts.

Some days are easy, joyful, full of laughter. Other days feel so heavy and dark that I long for bedtime so I can be done with it.

Some days I can schedule appointments, fill up my tires and send that difficult email. Other days I can barely make myself shower.

So which version is the true me? Am I lazy, or am I enthusiastic? Am I crotchety or graceful? Am I a good mom or a mean, selfish one?

It’s hard to have one image of myself (patient, fun, productive, creative) be in such contrast to the image that currently exists (cranky, reclusive, lazy, uninspired), especially when I recognize it in the moment and feel powerless to reverse it.

Is this what a midlife crisis feels like? Is this what adhd feels like?

Is this what life feels like? Messy, contradicting, happy and heavy, laughter and heartache all at the same time? When those floors shift and buckle beneath me, pitching me in unexpected ways, is that a breakdown or is it growth? Or is there really any difference?

Maybe I’m not as put together as I thought (and I really didn’t think I was all that put together to begin with) and maybe that’s okay. Maybe these versions of me are both true and maybe that’s okay, too. Maybe I can be kind to my unlovable self despite all her unlovable quirks; I know God is.

Maybe I don’t have as much control over who I am as I thought I did. If I could just choose to be happy all the time, would that be any better?

Maybe I am broken. Maybe I’m not where I want to be in life. Maybe that’s good; sometimes a bone healed in the wrong way has to be broken to be reset. Sometimes we have to take a right turn in order to pull a U-turn down the road to get to our destination. Sometimes things have to get messier before they can get better.

Maybe I don’t have to be a perfect mom in order to be a good mom. Maybe I don’t have to be sweet all the time in order to be kind when it matters. Maybe I need a day to recharge. Maybe I need a couple days. Maybe it’s ok to be human. Maybe it’s ok to be unhappy.

Maybe there’s value in the valleys.

In spite of everything, I know of one anchor I can grab hold of. A rock so sturdy and unshakeable that it stays the same yesterday, today, and forever. A God so gracious that He remains as unfazed by my “off” days as he is pleased with my “on” days.

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Have you felt this way? If so, what do you do in response to these feelings? Let me know in the comments.