Identity Theft

What is on my heart to share has nothing to do with washing our hands. Nothing to do with toilet paper. And nothing to do with social distancing.

Rather, what is on my heart to share is naming the identify theft I’ve been experiencing.

Walking the aisles of the grocery store this past week, observing overflowing carts, I began to wonder if my joy-filled spirit should be panicked.

As the immense amount of information began to pour in across media outlets, I began to question if my relaxed posture should be more heightened.

And when my children’s school was cancelled, I began to question if the calm I felt should be more of a frenzy.

As the crisis in our country has grown to epic proportions, I find myself feeling disoriented. I find myself confused as to what I am to think or feel.

Yesterday morning, I had the opportunity to escape the noise. Through a brief walk outside, I was able to pause. To breathe. And to become aware that my identity had been stolen.

Much like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, I’ve found myself swept up by a tornado and placed in a world I no longer recognize.

And more than that, I’ve forgotten who I am. My identity has been stolen.

Stolen by fear. Stolen by anxiety. Stolen by panic.

As I neared the end of my walk, I found my heart desiring to click my heels and be ”home”.

Home in the peace that surpasses all understanding. Home in the deep love and comfort of my Father, God. Home in the truth of who I am. A beloved daughter of the King.

So today, as the chaos continues around us. As the unknowns continue to pile up. Lets courageously place our questions. Our fears. Our worries. At the feet of our Father, God.

Lets click our heals. Close our eyes. And whisper the words that bring us home . . . Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.

He has me. He has you. Today. Tomorrow. Always.

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