Strokes of Identity

I am amazed some days at how quickly I can attach myself to fleeting forms of identity.

As I was driving to the gym this morning I was thinking through how many different things in life have served as a form of identity for me.

I thought about the mere exhaustion of carrying around a suitcase of proving papers, identification papers of worth.

How many of my dreams and passions have just been a rant to prove that Karolyn has value? Or a form of proof birthed from desire to know that I am desired and wanted?

How many times have I found myself attaching to accomplishment, talent, skill and  specific roles in relationships like wife, mother, mother-in-law, Nana, aunt, sister, daughter, friend, as though they each defined Karolyn.

True the above list is all part of my life fabric; ingredients if you will, but they do not identitfy, qualify or prove ME.

You may disagree with me, but my thinking behind this comes from painful discovery as a result of loss.

What happens to my life if one or more of those titles is removed, threatened or shredded? Do I become another woman? Who am I then if what I have been known by is no longer what I “do”? Who am I when divorce removes relationship of “mother-in-law?” Who am I when suddenly I am an “empty nester”? Who am I when my husband is no longer a “pastor?”

You may laugh at this, but anyone who has owned a Jeep will get me; what about when I sell my “Banks Powered” black Jeep? Is my identity in what I drive?

I could go on and on with a list of the silliest things I have found myself attaching my personnal identity to, but I would loose you half way through it!


I have done great battle attempting to start a writing career! Some of that battle has been because of my fear of not wanting it to become an identity, a form of proving my heart or my voice.

My daughter and I have a goal to publish my “blog book” by Christmas; in the process of editing I have been forced to look in the mirror and own my earlier published blog words; I have read words of ranting and passionate proving…I did not read love from those early words. I read a woman who was still finding herself and seeking identity from what she wrote instead of writing from her heart.

Strokes of identity…

Where do yours come from?

What if by tomorrow your strokes are removed or changed? Who then would you be? Where would you be left standing and in what condition?

Removal of the strokes from my life have equated brokenness.

And then I discovered Jesus…Again!

I discovered His faithfulness in my faithlessness…

His humility consuming my pride…

His beauty overwhelming my need for tangibility…

And His love satisfying my desperate thirst for meaning and purpose…

He became still more when I thought I had understood enough of Him…

I am a created being. God’s word tells me that. I, Karolyn was created in HIS IMAGE (Gen. 1:26; 5:1-2). Created in the image of God…the One who also created the moon and the sun, the stars, clouds and every river, sea and ocean, every mountain, hill and valley; he created the birds, animals, creatures, insects!

He created everything (Gen.1-2)! This is the One whose image my life was intended to glorify and magnify! There is no ending to Him, He is forever and He does not change.

Writing these words today bring fresh wonder to my existance, O may He ever remind me of whose image I carry! My identity is secure and as unchanging as a rock because of whose I am.

I pray as I press my little “publish” button today that someone out there draws encouragement from this truth.

You are beautiful, desired, seen and loved by the God of the universe; so take heart dear soul whatever your journey today…you are never alone…you are His.

Your identity is a result of strokes from the Master Artist of the universe; strokes of beauty, color and purposeful expressions of another world yet to come.