now I become myself

Now I become myself. It's taken

Time, many years and places;

I have been dissolved and shaken,

Worn other people's faces . . .

-Mary Sarton

There is an old quaker saying, "Let your life speak." I met a woman this weekend who's life wasn't just speaking; it was shouting. I looked at her and saw such a joy.

"I'll have what she's having."

I saw this woman with crazy hair, with shorts, with bad fashion sense, who was standing up in front of the crowd saying so boldly--this is who I am--I'm Heather. She said silly things like, "I spend $60 a month to get my hair this way. I have hundreds of pairs of shorts. My leg muscle and my forearm muscle are so strong, I can beat anyone here at armwrestling. I love nail polish. I'm a good listener. I'm loyal." I know this list sounds like quick shots from a gun, but she wove a humerous story of her identity that I can't begin to recount here. While it seemed at first that she would be all fun and giggles, later in her first session, she came to share a darker time when she wasn't so bubbly. She shared painful stories of her ostracism in junior high.

I found myself thinking of pigeon posters on lockers, and wishing we didn't have so much in common.

At first, I thought, I want to be like her. How can I live a more silly way of life? But as she wove her teaching around her life, I came to see that her appeal lies not necessarily in who she is, but in her popping, smiling embrace of her identity.

It made me wonder what would be on a list of things that are decidedly Evi. (Perhaps I should have figured this out by 27.)

Can I say any one thing about myself so loudly and boldly that I might have Heataher's type of glow. Is the glow simply a reflection of God's glory when we truly embrace all that he has made us to be--reflecting all the things he's built us for? Is there a way I can start to own "me" a bit more.

To make him look at me and go. . . "yes, that's it Ev."

I've always sensed he had a plan for me, as many people do--I know I'm not special in this way. It's just this somewhat life-giving, somewhat terribly annoying burning in my heart that I--I would get it right for Him. But I can't even say this sentence without saying that I know I don't have to do anything. He told Jesus before he did anything, "This is my son; with him I am well pleased."

I pray that I might come to really appreciate Your design, to appreciate this corner of Your creation that I inhabit, this me.

To just be comfortable in my skin.