I had a identity crisis crash land into my pillow tonight with tears rolling down my face and the emotions of a teenage girl PMSing take hold of me asking me to answer the throbbing question of where do I belong and who the heck am I?
For many this comes to you as a surprise. Morgan?! The confident chick who walks down the the hallways smiling and waving at her fellow cohorts, who boldly rides Metro Transit from one side of town to another, who wears what she wants when she wants because she doesn't and has never cared what people said about her....that Morgan? Yea...that's the one.
Life is like going on a hike. It's not always easy, it can be challenging, but it can also be fun. This expedition of a hike, in which I reflected on tonight, all began when I came back from Poland. The emotions and tears that were shed when I returned were unbearable. I left people, a country, a camp, and a language all behind to return to America: Lazy, consumeristic, fat, America. Not that other countries can't be this too....this is just how I felt when I returned. I became so judgmental of all which surrounded me. I was depressed, kept distant from other people and avoided having to do anything at all. I had fully invested myself in people at the camp in Zako, where I was placed, that it took weeks of slowly lowering myself back into the routine of Minneapolis Morgan till I was distracted enough that I could stop missing it.
This pass Spring, I decided that I wasn't going to do track and do a half marathon instead. The story of my race was a miracle in itself, let's just say that I finished the race but the moment I crossed that finished line I limped over to the medics to get ice for the sharp pain shooting though the top of my foot. The first week I could hardly walk. I was so proud of myself that I finished and I believed that my foot would get better soon and I would be back on my feet in a jiffy. Weeks go by. I knew I had learned my lesson, I had made running my idol. I had prioritized running more than I did my time with God. I looked to running to tell me that I was known for something: that energetic, crazy distance, running girl. And to even tell me day by day if I looked good on the outside based on if I had ran that day or not.
This summer, lies began to flow into my mind, consuming it to the point that I got on my knees because my head was pounding so badly that my it ached because on the days when I didn't look to my Bible to remind me what is true about myself I would turn to the mirror and ask myself if I measured up to society....in which we all fall short to both but society won't forgive me for it, it won't stop until I realized that if I live according to my sinful nature (the devil, the world, and my flesh) I will die but by the spirit if I put to death the misdeeds of the body, I will live.
As I slowly began running again, 2 miles or less, every other day, I became more thankful than I had ever been before for the abilities that God has blessed me with. I thought back to before running my half marathon and thinking, "After I run this race, I can train in the summer with 5ks and 10ks as speed work so that by the time cross country comes around I will be rip, roaring, and ready to run. This will be the best season ever!" How selfish was I! Apparently, God knew I needed to be literally knocked to my backside to learn some humility.
I got running back and spent the rest of summer on the farms where I spent a lot of my time day dreaming about life, more farming, while being surrounded by loving friends and family and the beauty of creation. Then I got in a car for two in a half hours, gabbing to my parent about my great farming life. The crops slowly vanished by changing gravel roads to pavement and corn into lots and lots of cars and people that I was not prepared to face.
I didn't think I would need a transition coming back into the city but apparently I needed one/ still need one. There were people everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Like, I don't remember there being this many people and so many people in this city....and all SO obnoxious. And the day I return, I swear my friend must have a app to locate where I am because I felt like all of a sudden the speed was turned up under my feet and instead of walking at a leisurely country pace, it was kicked up 10 noches where I needed to be doing, doing, doing, connecting, connecting connecting, talking, talking, talking, STOP! This was like Poland all over agin. I don't want to do anything with anyone and now not only do I don't like americans I don't like people thus I must not like people in a america!! What is wrong with me. I like people....and I believe I still like americans....sometimes...
The next day I decide to have a break day but it actually made me more stressed because I thought about school and how I'm not fully at Washburn and I am no longer at the University of MN. On top of that I'm a newbie at North Central but I'm not even a real student! I thought about cross country and being a captain, a captain who doesn't even know if I will be able to run this season, or at least not be able to to her full potential. And my church, I like my house church more than my real church, what's up with that. Then I have so many friend groups and none I am really fully apart of the group or groups. And I could go back to Poland but I can never be Polish. And you can take this city girl and put her back on the farm but you can never take that city out of that girl. I am wandering wherever, living from my backpack or suitcase, jumping from different circles of friends, cities, towns, and schools.
Running, schools, and people all of a sudden felt as if they were taken away...it's the space of the unknown that lead me to ask the question: who am I?
In life, you may notice that the course is getting tougher, or that the air is getting lighter, altitude higher, and road steeper. If you try scope out your surroundings you only find yourself in a forest, enclosed by lofty trees and you can't see out. But once you get to the top of that mountain, you can look out and you realize all you overcame during that hike. You can see over the trees that you once couldn't see through. And the rocks that you stumbled over are only the size of small ants and now you know where they are so that as you continue on your journey you won't fall over them again.
Once you return to the valley you can look up at that mountain and tell the person next to you that you climbed that and you can give them the best advice for their journey. And in the valley you will also look around and see that you are surrounded by mountain and that they are everywhere but after you do one it will only make you stronger and more cunning for the next one you will face.
I know who I am, I am a disciple. I follow Jesus where he will lead me knowing that what he asks of me will be the best way for me to live my life. I have chosen to deny my self and pick up my cross whatever it may cost me. I know that Jesus remain the same and that who I am in him on the strong days remains the same as who I am on the low days when I no longer believe the truth. I know that with my identity being found in Christ, I no longer have to care what the rest of the society and the world think of me because I was made to serve my creator and to love Him. I am called also to love all around me...even if they are obnoxious. I know that his power works best in weakness and I will delight in the hardships, persecutions, and difficulties because when I am weak, I am strong.
