Identity

I’ve been thinking about my identity lately.

I have been a Mother for 26 years. More than half of my life.

I mentioned in another post that when I would fill in my school memory book as a child, there was always a question each year that asked “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

The little book gave a general list of choices, but I would check the “other” box and write “Mommy” every year.

I could identify to motherhood.

I believe it’s because I have a very nurturing heart. I am drawn to help others and take care of them.

When I was little, my parents had a cat named Agnes and I just loved this cat!

One time my mother found me brushing the cats teeth.

Another time they found me giving the cat a bath in the bathtub!

Agnes knew that I loved her,so she let me do these things contrary to her nature.

I was around two and three years old when I would get her nice and clean!

I could relate to, or some would say, identify with cats.

Cats are quiet, Agnes would gently rub her head on my face to wake me up, she would purr when I would pet her and she would only hiss once in a while.

Agnes would not hiss at me, but if my baby brother would pull her tail too hard too many times then she had enough.

Nothing really got her all worked up.

That’s the kind of nature that I can relate to.

Calm and quiet and letting things go until it gets to be too much, then I might hiss! Please don’t misquote me and say that I identify AS a cat, I said WITH a cat!

I also see my identity as a wife and a daughter and a sister and a grandmother! That is because they are relational. Person to person.

I have worked many different jobs over the years and I have also gone back to school a few times to get my licenses and certifications for occupations where I can identify with and connect to people, one on one.

One thing that has always struck me when talking to someone for the first time is the question that always seems to come up. What do you do for a living?

Oh I am a ———. Fill in the blank.

I would always find myself saying things like, ” I work in a bank.” As opposed to,” I am a bank teller.”

“I work in a salon, as a receptionist.”

“I have my nail technician license. I have my esthetician license. I have my health coach certification.”

I have always shied away from saying “I am a nail tech”, “I am an esthetician,” “I am a health coach.”

Those are things that I do but they are not who I am.

Sometimes when we want to change our identity we will do it by changing a part of our name.

When I was a baby and for months before I was born, my parents thought that I was going to be a boy.

They had no girl names picked out at all.

A few days before I was born, my mom looked at my dad and said “what if it’s a girl?”

So they started thinking of names and automatically since they thought because they were going to name a boy after my Dad,that they should just name a girl the feminine name for Michael which would be Michelle.

They stuck with that for a little bit and then right before I was born they decided to name me Corinne. They looked at me and thought about giving me the nickname Corey. Then they decided that I did not look like a Corey I looked like a Corinne.

I never had the desire to go by a nickname.

Some people do that all the time and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. All my children go by nicknames.

When Billy was born, it was a done deal that he was going to be William the IV.

My son was automatically going to be called Billy.

His dad had been Billy and his grandfather had been Billy. I believe his great grandfather was Billy too.

At a certain age, the oldest three Billy’s dropped the Y to become Bill.

About a year before my son was murdered, he had lived in a new place and was looking for a new identity. Getting away from past mistakes and starting over.

When people asked me how he was doing, I would always smile and say “oh, he’s finding himself!” That was a pretty accurate statement.

Billy was in a new place surrounded by new people, meeting new people everyday. He would introduce himself as Liam.

Billy changed his Facebook name to WilLiam.

Do you see what he did there? The second L is capitalized to spell Liam.

I thought it was odd at first because to me he would always be my Billy💗. I did not understand.

Then I realized that all he was doing was dropping the Y like his father and grandfather before him and instead of having people call him Bill he wanted people to call him Liam.

We all identify with something whether it’s our job as employee or employer. At school as students , our favorite sports team, or our roles in life as parents, spouses, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, grandparents or friends.

These days I have to find my identity in Jesus Christ.

I desire to become all he died to give me. Spirit, soul and body.

The only way I can cope with the senseless, tragic murder of my son is to focus on where he is for all eternity and where I’m going.

I have to focus on allowing Jesus and his life to flow through me to others that I encounter in my day to day activities.

To find my identity in him.

I also have to remember that my boy isn’t cold, hungry, sad or lonely.

Billy is more alive than he’s ever been!

As much as I miss him, I find comfort knowing that he is joyful and at complete peace.

He finally understands the reasons behind all the unanswered “why’s” in his life on this earth as short as it was.

Billy knows that someday I’ll be coming home to where he is and he knows that Logan will be coming too.

Logan and I talk about Daddy and Jesus often.

“because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.“Romans 10:9

That’s only the beginning. Being saved.

That’s what Billy did. He was saved.

That’s just the start of finding your identity in Jesus.

Billy didn’t have a lot of time after being saved to discover his whole identity in Jesus, but just as he was trying to change his identity by changing his name, there was evidence in his actions that his heart had changed.

That’s changing from the inside out, not the outside in.

Jesus loved him just the same.

We all identify with something whether we do it aimlessly and subconsciously, or if we make a conscious choice to identify with people or things that matter to us.

Where is your identity found? In what you do,or who you are.