Does that automatically make me a mommy blogger? What does that even mean?
Identity is a tricky thing. For years, I had it nailed. I was a single Christian female (notice the order) who worked for a non-profit organization and lived with her sister. I always weighed in between 180 and 190 pounds, worked out at least six times a week and fit size 14 jeans. I did ministries such as counseling, teaching, and watching other people's kids. I watched Marvel movies with my best friend, read Christian fiction in the hammock over the summers, and I NEVER sang in choir.
Then I met my husband.
He didn't start out as my husband, obviously. He started out as a single guy at church. That was a rare and phenomenally special type of bird in and of itself, so I honestly didn't expect him to last too long on the dating market.
(Sidenote: this is a funny picture. Scenes from the Christian dating market: "Ladies, ladies!! This one is available! Loves Jesus! Has a full-time job! Does not live with his parents! Attractive in his own special way! Do I have any takers? Whoa!! Slow down, ladies! No need to stampede here!! AAAAHHHHH!!" ::trampled by the single ladies at church as they walk by and try to appear attractive without single man noticing they are trying to do so::)
However, oddly to me, the new single guy expressed interest. I don't think of myself as unattractive, but I have been told I am unapproachable. The fact that he approached me and kept approaching me (even after I threw everything at him...including and not limited to, my baggage, my history, and the kitchen sink), was an identity shaker. I had been praying at the beginning of the year that God would help me to accept my singleness wholeheartedly and I was taking active steps to make some career changes to support my single lifestyle, so this man felt sort of like an intrusion to my new, accepted identity.
But, he was cute.
And he loved Jesus, his family, and his friends.
And he kept pursuing me.
I knew it was what God wanted for me. Even down to my prayer that God would sanctify my selfishness and ability to submit. A husband was certainly the best answer to that prayer I could come up with. And this guy was phenomenal. He cherished me as a woman and a person, jumped into ministry with me, found ways to serve my family, and asked me great questions that got to my heart. I was thrilled to say "yes" when he finally asked me (don't ask: there were issues with the ring construction).
So began the deconstruction of my identity.
I don't complain about not being single. I don't miss that lifestyle most of the time. Having someone to do daily life with on the intimate level the way my husband I can do it is a privilege. But, I am no longer autonomous. I have to take into consideration someone else at a new level. Add to that the fact that we are using just one car; and we are intertwined on a level I never envisioned. I would have thought I would hate it. I don't. I love it.
Then I got pregnant.
I am not one of those "cute" pregnant people. When the nurse at my 8 week appointment told me that a healthy weight gain is 15 to 25 pounds, my eyebrows shot up. After all, I was already starting out heavier than I had been in 15 years (I like eating with my husband) so at that point, I had already surpassed the 15 pound mark. When it was all said and done, even thought I was struggling with morning sickness all day up until the morning I gave birth, I gained over 35 pounds during my pregnancy. I realize this is not a ridiculous number, but my weight (and ability to lose weight) has been a part of my identity for years. Someone told me to "just get a rubber band and you can wear your old jeans, Gina." Sister, it is going to take a lot more than a rubber band... perhaps an entire box of bungee cords from our nearest bulk store?
So, no longer a size 14. No longer able to walk 5 miles in a stretch. No longer able to get up off the floor in one fluid movement (these days, it takes a small crane and half of those bungee cords!). This part of my identity is shredded.
I am fortunate. I am under no pressure whatsoever to lose weight from my husband or family. It just confuses me. If I am no longer the girl who can lose weight easily and fit those 14's, who am I?
In Christ.
I love that phrase. I honestly feel like I have not even remotely plumbed its depths, but I love it. I am in Christ. In Him, I have everything I could ever want or need, including acceptance. That means I am in Christ if I am size 14 or size 24. When I am single, now that I am married. Childless and mother of one or three. None of those circumstances change how God sees me.
Lord, help this be enough.
I have gained and lost many identities this year. The one I want to focus on with single-minded determination is the one I have in Christ.
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