This blog didn't start at the beginning of my story. We're picking it up at the end. Well, not the end end, but the end of right now. My current storm began to rage last spring. It started with one of those days I'll never forget. There are a few other day throughout my life that I still remember changing me. Some were good, others not so much. February 11, 1994 changed my life and May 28, 2003 changed my soul. I'll tell you about those someday. But on March 28, 2011 I lost a job that I absolutely loved. It's weird that almost exactly a year prior, in March 2010, I wrote this...
I am a son of the Most High God, Creator and Sustainer of life,
Sovereign Lord of Heaven and Earth,the only source of salvation and significance.
I was chosen and adopted by Him, a joint-heir of Jesus Christ,
sharing in all rights and privileges endowed upon a son of the King.
The enemy will attack me, he can take those precious to me,
everything I have, even my own life; but he can never take away my identity.
I am a son of the Most High God.
A year before the storm hit, I was assured of who I am. I'm my Father's son. Identity is critical when life's storms come. When you're certain of who you are, everything changes. Circumstance no longer define who you are.
More than knowing who I am, I know whose I am.
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