Today my first thought upon waking was the social nuances of various texts and emails that I need to send. I don’t know if there are others who put this kind of thought (over thought?) into how your words are received, how what you say will impact the other person. What will they think? What will they interpret? How do I craft this to say what I mean and make sure, so sure, that I’m not misunderstood?

Maybe it’s just me?

It can take me so much more time to think about what I’m going to write or say than it does to actually say it. It’s like preparing for a mini sermon every time I have to interact with a potentially tricky social situation.

The root stems from a couple of places, I think.

Through personality and upbringing, I tend to put a lot of thought into what people around me are experiencing emotionally. How they’re interacting with the situation around them and the impact that each person’s state of being has on the group collective emotional state.

That might sound more exhausting than it is, or it might not. It depends on the situation and whether or not I fall into the trap of thinking that what they are feeling is either a.) my business, or b.) up to me at all.

As I get older I gain more perspective on my role or lack thereof in my relationships with other people. I gain wisdom on letting people be sovereign over their own emotional situation and realize that my place is to tend to the movement of the Spirit inside of me as I navigate relationships.

But there is still a fissure of me that wakes in the morning putting more weight on these types of situations than I ought. Because what if I’m misunderstood, misinterpreted, or what if my credibility as a ‘good friend’ comes into jeopardy?

These elements of identity such as being a good friend, our intelligence, skill, all of these things, flow out of our self-value. How we perceive our worth in the world. And it can either be encouraging or exhausting, depending on the amount of physical, emotional, and spiritual maintenance that it takes for us to keep our value to others where we feel it should be.

The Apostle Paul recognized the draw of all these things, the human drive to find our value and confidence in our situation or attributes.

If someone else thinks they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless.

Philippians 3:4-6

Paul had every reason for confidence, to sink back into his identity and status. His family was the right kind of family, who had followed the societal and religious rules. No taint in their background, that’s for sure.

But that’s not all. He had the right training in the right topic. He was a rising star at work (killing Christians got you a quick promotion at that time). And he was, in his own words, religiously faultless. The right pew in the right part of church. The right clank of contributions to the offering plate, the right feelings about the culture around him. I also imagine he was the person people would come to when they were uncertain about whether they were doing right or wrong.

Paul was and did everything right. 

I wonder sometimes if he was exhausted.

I wonder if the strain of being right, of never letting down his guard, of wondering how he was going to sustain it all ever sagged his shoulders as he sat on his bed at night.

And then I wonder at the new freedom he found when he encountered Christ. 

Not just freedom in his salvation but the recognition of a new identity. One that wasn’t based on performance or approval, but on his status as a follower of Jesus Christ.

But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in[a] Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith.          Philippians 3:7-9

Some people might look at the words here that Paul uses, like loss and garbage, and feel afraid of what they will miss. Afraid of not knowing who they are and leaving their identifying markers behind.

This I know to be true, the more I strive to turn over my thoughts of personal identity to Christ, the more I ask his Spirit to fill me and show me what Christ thinks of me, the more freedom I feel. I’m braver, stronger, kinder, more able to look outside of myself and see the struggles and triumphs of others. There is less competition in my heart and more compassion.

When we get wrapped up in the paralysis of doing the right things, coming to Jesus, sitting in his presence and asking him, ‘What do you think of me?’ begins us on a journey to knowing not only ourselves better, but knowing him better as well. He offers us the freedom of remaining in his love as we venture out into the world, clothed in the identity of being HIS.

This is ours for the asking, we just need to seek to know him as Paul discovered, to his freedom and delight. And to ours too, I imagine.