I’m still wrestling with God. This week its over my identity.

Who am I? What am I?

For me identity is like a sign I wear around my neck. It’s the thing that tells me who I am, tells others who I am and keeps us all straight as to what I was made for. Most of my life my identity has been tied to either my family or my doings. I was the Chaplain’s daughter, the minister’s kid, Nina’s sister (or Paula’s or Vic’s — take your sibling-pick), the "baby" of the family… yada-yada-yada. Later in life it became: I’m a sound engineer in training; I’m a producer’s assistant; I’m an executive assistant; and, of course, everyone knows that every assistant in Hollywood is an aspiring writer/producer themselves and I wore that one well for quite a while. Then I became a missionary. First to Hollywood (in an unofficial, self-named capacity, of course), then for real — first to India with ISC/Caleb Project, then with the IMB.

In the last two years I’ve lost my two major themes of "identity". I’m no longer a daughter of anyone on earth. And I’m no longer an official missionary. I’m not an official anything.

Who am I? Why am I here? What’s my purpose? What’s the point of all this? I’m so lost. So confused. So frustrated.

God spoke. "You are My Beloved. You are My Bride. You are A Crown-Princess. You are Mine."

That’s great. And it’s wonderful in the spiritual realm, but — hello — I live in the physical world. But I can’t wear that sign out in public anywhere. Do you know how crazy people would think I am if I said to the world, "Hi. I’m Lu and I’m a Crown-Princess and a child of the King."

Yeah, right. Watch the white coats come out and lock me up. Count the seconds, see how long it takes.

I need an identity I can wear in public, in this physical world you refuse to let me leave behind, thank you very much. Who am I in this world??

So God tried a different tactic today. He used my counselor to say the exact same thing He’d said last night. That was nice, but He gets no credit for originality.

Well, okay. To be fair, Barney didn’t say exactly what God said. He just created an opportunity to God to say it again. And then for me to repeat God’s words out loud. And then Barney took up God’s side of our fight.

Yeah, I got it. God really wants me to take this sign and wear it.

You know, its one thing to wear the Beloved sign with pride at home, or at Mosaic. But out on the street?? I could maybe see hiding it under my shirt, and walk around feeling like I’ve got this big magic secret that I, and no one else knows, knows and that makes me "special" somehow. Like a secret agent, one identity to the world, but my true identity hidden from view. But that doesn’t seem to be God’s aim here. He seems to want me to wear that big-ol’ sign front and center. Everywhere. Even out in public.

Doesn’t that sound so arrogant to do? I mean, does Prince William walk around with a sign saying "soon-to-be Crown Prince of England"? How big would the tomatoes and eggs we throw at him be if he did?

Yet this is the only identity God will give me. No matter how hard I cry, how much I scream, how hard I work, this is it: