Do You Know Who I Am?

Last Sunday morning, we had a missionary come in to present his ministry to the church.  This man graduated from the very school I had attended all my life, so I recognized him right away, though I must admit I couldn't remember his name.  (I'm terrible with names.  Ask my nine years' worth of students.)  Anyway, during fellowship time, I went over to shake his hand.  He smiled at me and said, "I know you.  You used to be Christi White."  I smiled back and corrected, "No, I'm Dana."  He never blinked.  "Oh, okay.  So you're the one who's now a Ravioli or something."  "Rongione," I corrected again.  "Right," he said.

Outwardly, I was smiling, but inwardly, I was crying.  This is not the first, second or even fiftieth time this has happened.  I'm always Christi (my sister) or Christi's sister or Mrs. White's daughter or Jason's wife. . . and now Ravioli.  Doesn't anyone know me as me?  Don't I have a name of my own?  Would it be so difficult for someone to recognize and remember me for who I am and for what I've accomplished?  I know this sounds extremely selfish and proud, and I apologize.  It just becomes discouraging after a while.  I'm proud to be Mrs. White's daughter and Christi's sister and Jason's wife, but every once in a while it would be nice to have someone come up and say, "You're Dana, right?"  Yes!  I do have my own identity! 

It's just that identity is often shadowed by those I'm related to who are more forthright and social.  I'm used to being in the background, and most of the time I don't mind.  But sometimes it's disheartening when I feel invisible.  Sometimes I feel like if I weren't Mrs. White's daughter or Christi's sister or Jason's wife, I wouldn't have any identity at all.  In short, I'd be a nobody. 

Spiritually speaking, I hope I'm never seen as who I truly am but only by whose I am.  When Satan comes to me and questions, "Who do you think you are?"  I don't want to answer him, "I'm Dana."  That would do me no good.  But rather I would answer, "I'm a child of the King.  I'm one for whom Jesus came to die.  I've been bought with His blood, and I'm precious to Him.  You'd better leave me alone because my big Brother's got my back."

I don't even want God to see me for who I really am -- sinful, stubborn, moody.  No, instead I wish for Him to see me through the blood of Christ.  I want Him to see me as clean and righteous because of my acceptance of His holy gift.  Yes, when it comes to spiritual matters, I wish to gladly remain in the background, hiding my true identity behind the cross of Christ.

Physically speaking. . . well, I'm still working on it.  I'll keep you updated on my progress.  In the meantime, if you see someone walking around who looks like me, call the name "Dana".  Even if it's my sister instead of me, that's okay.  I'm sure she won't mind.  (I'll make it up to you, Christi!)