My Identity

    Going to a new place can be very different and sometimes scary, but I believe there are a few things you learn very quickly in college. You learn the best time to do laundry, the shortest walk to class, and what food to eat in the cafeteria. But there are also things you forget quickly. You forget what it's like to have a room to yourself, but you also enjoy the new company. You forget what it feels like to go to sleep before 11:30, and what it's like to not have homework or reading to do. 

      Everyone tries to push you outside your comfort zone and encourages you to go out and do things, to have fun! Every time you meet someone new, you ask their name and major, and where they're from. Personally, I've met so many people in the span of a week that I forget their name as soon as they've said it to me. In class, the professors make you introduce yourself to the class with your major. Sometimes, people remember your name, or they just remember you by your major. Other times, they might know someone from where you live, but more often than not you end up reintroducing yourself to everyone you meet.

    Who you present yourself to be, or how you present yourself, is how other people know you; this becomes your identity. But who are you really?

    Maybe you're a college kid like me, or maybe you're a grandparent. A teacher, preacher, electrician, and something in between. Is this who you really are, or is this just the easiest way to help people get to know you?

    Whether we realize it or not, as soon as we meet someone we're already sizing them up in our heads. Your brain rapidly processes a massive amount of new information to create a prediction about this person. It takes visual cues, appearance, and a host of other factors and adds them up to create a preconceived notion. It's basic science that when you meet a new person your brain goes through these different processes, part of our fight-or-flight response to determine if this new person is a threat to us or not. But the opinion people first form when they meet you is probably not who you would say you truly are. 

    

    And that's not necessarily a bad thing, they just don't know the real you yet. So that begs the question: what is your identity?

    For majority of my life I grew up in the small town of Tishomingo, Oklahoma, with a population of under 4,000. "Everybody knows everybody" was a very common phrase that often held true. My class had a little over 80 people, and I could name every person. A small town meant not very many options as to what profession your parents held, so I would give people easy ways to remember me. 

    "I'm Hannah Holmes, and my dad is Luke Holmes, the pastor at First Baptist. Yes, the big white church on main street. My mom also owns the flower shop on main street across from the pharmacy." This phrase would often help people recognize who I am. Our church was on the main drag, and almost everyone passed by it once a day. There were only two flower shops in town, so that gave everyone a pretty good guess as to which one my family owned.

    For a long time, I used this as my identity. At camp, I would introduce myself and my fun fact would almost always be that I was a pastor's kid. It's a very niche lifestyle, and you only meet so many. Being a pastor's kid was my identity, and it changed the way I thought about things. I love being a PK more than  anything, and I thank the Lord for allowing me to lead this lifestyle, but it's not what defines me anymore. 

    In some way, I think your testimony can tell a lot about how you define yourself, or who you identify as. Your testimony is the story of who you were before you met Christ, how He changed your life, and how you live differently after salvation. Whenever I give my testimony, I always start it out with the same phrase. "I always grew up in church. My dad is a pastor, so we were there whenever the doors were open, and sometimes when they weren't". As I got older, I realized this was a blessing in disguise. There was never a time when I didn't know the Lord, and for that I'm eternally grateful.

    When I was a freshman, six girls from my high school died in a car accident. This tragedy rocked my community, and honestly, we didn't know how to move on from there. As a 14-year-old high school girl, this left a significant impact on how I view my life and how I treat my relationships with others. Attending funerals of girls that I was friends with in middle school isn't exactly your idea of a "high school experience". The hurt and trauma I felt from this was so raw and deep that for a long time I couldn't imagine a time where this wouldn't affect my everyday life. Three years later it still affects me, and at times it hits harder than others. The year that I had being friends with Gracie and Brooklyn I wouldn't trade for anything.

    While you might think that such an event would be an identifying factor in someone's life, I know that this isn't what defines me: the Lord does.

    I play the piano, I'm an older sister, I like to read and drink coffee. I love a crisp, cold Coke, and I have entirely too many shoes. I'm a very sentimental person, and I like spending time with my friends. I love to travel and see the world, and I love spending my summers on mission trips. My favorite time of year is the fall, and I love the color pink. While all of these things are facts about me, they don't define me.

    As Christians, we are called to a higher standard of living. We're called to be set apart, and to not be conformed to the world (Romans 12:2). There should be a different standard by which we live, and it should be extremely evident in the way we live our lives. If you ever find yourself wondering who you are or what your identity is, know that the answer lies in our faith. You are not defined by your past, personal achievements, or your profession, but by the plan and purpose God has for you. Your identity shouldn't rest on your own understanding, but the understanding of your relationship with Christ.

    Navigating a new chapter can be challenging, but it forces you to confront the question of who you are. While labels might seem like an easy system, the way you "label" yourself isn't the whole story, but only part of the narrative. The search for our identity shouldn't conclude with a definition we create for ourselves, but who the Lord of all Creation has called you to be.