I’ve spent several weeks dealing with my identity in Christ.  I am a child of the Most-High God, joint-heir with Christ, His daughter, His friend, His bride.  I am an apostle, scribe, His messenger.  I am loved, treasured, cherished.

Still, despite the reminders (over and over and over again!) of those truths, I’d again have trouble focusing on the Lord’s work and instead find myself focusing on the troubles, the obstacles, the arrows being shot in my direction. I was still saying, “Yes, Lord, but…” and then would spill out to God the doubts, fears, and reservations, reminding Him of my shortcomings and failures.

“Who do you say that I am?” the Lord interrupted one of my moments of negativity.

“What do you mean, Lord?” I asked, opening my Bible, thinking that the Lord wanted me to read the exchange between Jesus and Peter (Luke 9:18-20). I read the passage and thought for moment. No bolts of lightning, no “aha!” moment. “Lord, I’m confused. You are my Lord and Savior, You are God, You are the Christ.  I gave my life to You years ago…”

“Just stop,” the Lord broke into my stream of words.  “Stop and really think about what I’m asking you.  Really THINK about it. Who do you say that I am?”

I closed my eyes. I could see the Lord seated on His throne, the train of His robe filling the temple, the angels crying “Holy, holy, holy” and the posts shaking, incense rising (Isaiah 6).

I saw God forming Adam from the dust, breathing life into him.

The sea parting, Moses and the Hebrews passing on dry land and then that same sea crashing down on the Egyptians.  God slaying Goliath through a young shepherd boy’s sling and rock, and that same young boy being anointed king over Israel.

An angel appearing before a young virgin, a baby crying in a stable, then that baby a young boy – odd, misunderstood, growing in strength and knowledge – confounding the teachers in the temple.

I saw a man healing the sick, raising the dead, loving the unlovable and that same man beaten, whipped, stripped and nailed to a cross.  I saw Him die, descend into hell where he took the keys of death and the grave, defeat death and rise with the dawn.  I saw Him appearing to a woman – a broken, once-possessed outcast – declaring His victory. I saw Him ascend into heaven, and the promised Holy Spirit coming in flames of fire in the upper room.

The white horse, the Lord seated on it faithful and true. The enemy defeated and cast into the pit. The new earth with the river flowing, the Lord smiling at me, holding out the jeweled crown, placing it on my head and then allowing me to place that same crown at His feet in worship of Him.

In a moment the series played through my mind. I could see it all.  “This, Lord, is who You are. You are everything – God, Lord, King, Savior, defender, comforter, giver of life, my friend.”

The gentle voice, soft and sweet – “If you know who I am and you know who you are in Me, then why are you worried? Why are you complaining? Trust me, my precious child. Surrender it all to Me. I’ve chosen you for a purpose. Stop questioning it and trust Me.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  I could see the troubles around me. I could see the arrows flaming at my feet. But, I could also see the Lord, each trouble in His hand, each arrow being quenched by His Holiness.  Everything working out, in its time, according to His purpose.

I could rest, knowing that He is in control, knowing exactly who I am and more importantly, remembering who He is that my life is in His hands.