Strategy 3

Your Identity

Remembering Who You Are

If I were your enemy, I’d devalue your strength and magnify your insecurities until they dominate how you see yourself, disabling and disarming you from fighting back, from being free, from being who God has created you to be. I’d work hard to ensure that you never realize what God has given you so you’ll doubt the power of God within you.

It was a tragic scene.

Abby, a nineteen-year-old college sophomore, was returning home with four other friends on a spring break outing to Disneyland, when the SUV in which she was riding experienced a blowout that turned into a fatal accident. Two of the girls were ejected from the car and died on the scene. Abby was identified as one of them.

As word reached the families back in Arizona—two girls dead, three critically injured—typical parental worry over a college road trip turned to unspeakable grief. Abby’s parents spent the next few days combing through the shock and horror, planning the details of their daughter’s funeral while three other parents prayed for their own children’s recovery, some of whose bruises and swelling made them almost hard to recognize as they lay in the hospital.

On Saturday, however, six days after the accident, hospital officials informed two of the families that there had been a horrible mistake. Two of the girls, who bore a striking resemblance, had been misidentified. Parents who’d been sitting by the bedside of a young woman they believed to be their daughter were told the staggering news: she wasn’t their daughter after all. Their daughter had actually died in the accident. And Abby’s parents? They were given news they could have never imagined receiving . . .

Abby wasn’t dead. She was alive.

The initial shock of what they were hearing turned to disbelief. Disbelief then turned to joy. But the joy was mingled, too, with anger—anger that they’d been forced to live for six days in agony because of a reality that wasn’t true, a grief that they had no need to feel or experience.

It all boiled down to a case of mistaken identity.

The enemy wants you to suffer from a case of mistaken identity. Makes his job a whole lot easier. And makes your defenses a lot weaker. He’s working overtime to keep your identity masked, to keep the truth from coming out—that you are indeed alive and free and empowered by God’s own Spirit to fight victoriously against him. He’d rather conspire to keep you in a constant state of mourning, grieving over who you wish you were, instead of relishing who you really are, exacerbated by insecurity and crippled by self-doubt.

That’s why he doesn’t want you praying—not fervently—because fervent prayer keeps your true identity in focus. Reminds us of who we really are and taps into the power we really have in Christ.

This authentic identity is possibly quite a bit different from the one you perceive when you look at yourself in the mirror each day, or when you’re fidgeting through an awkward social encounter, or when you’re sizing yourself up against the well-dressed accomplishments of other friends, other church members, even (and you know it’s true) even total strangers. It’s also not the identity your enemy wants in your head when he’s moving strategically against you, when he’s maneuvering himself into attack position. He wants you lifeless, disengaged, brainwashed into believing you have nothing of value to offer.

That’s why he doesn’t want your nose in the Word or your knees on the hardwood. Because that’s where the light comes on. That’s where you find out the good news, perhaps the surprisingly euphoric news—that you are alive, fully equipped to stand firm against him. “Formerly darkness,” the Bible says, yes. Formerly. At one time. But now “Light in the Lord” . . . “children of Light” . . . able through Christ to produce “the fruit of the Light” (Eph. 5:8–9).

That’s why Paul, in his colossal letter to the Ephesians, came roaring out of the starting gate with one reminder after another of the spiritual blessings we’ve been given, purely as the result of Christ’s love toward us, commensurate with the enormous value He’s placed on us. I almost hesitate to list them for fear you’ll skim over them, feeling all too familiar with them, knowing them already. But I’m asking you to soak them into your soul. Let Paul’s identity sketch from Ephesians 1 embed itself into the floorboard of your deepest insecurities. You are:

• equipped through Christ with “every spiritual blessing” (v. 3)
• chosen in Him “before the foundation of the world” (v. 4)
• regarded as “holy and blameless before Him” (v. 4)
• adopted through the “kind intention of His will” (v. 5)
• redeemed and forgiven, “lavished” with grace (vv. 7–8)
• recipients of a glorious “inheritance” in heaven (v. 11)
• secured forever by “the Holy Spirit of promise” (vv. 13–14)

I could go on. Like Paul does. This list is just one quick sampling from one chapter, from one book of the Bible, from one small corner of God’s blessing barn, poured out like a thousand Christmas mornings—every morning—every time you wake up to the partly cloudy forecast of a new day.

But what I love most—and what the devil seriously hopes you don’t notice—is that Paul didn’t just deliver all this spiritual material like a class lecture, writing stray bits of information on the board, stuff you might do well to remember for the next big test coming up. No, right in the middle of Paul’s dictation, notice how his prepared monologue (around verses 15 and 16) begins blending almost seamlessly into a prayer. You think he’s just talking, and then just like that . . . he’s praying. Praying that our eyes would be open to really, fully see and recognize who we truly are. Praying that we would:

• receive a “spirit of wisdom” from the Father (v. 17)
• be enlightened to grasp the “hope of His calling” (v. 18)
• recognize the “riches of the glory of His inheritance” (v. 18)
• know the “surpassing greatness of His power” toward us (v. 19)
• realize we are “seated [with] Him . . . in heavenly places” (v. 20)
• and that even though we were “dead,” He has given us life (2:5)

There’s strategy to this combination of the Word and prayer. From Scripture we receive written proof of what God has done for us, what He’s created us and called us and empowered us into becoming. Then in prayer we cooperate with Him to stamp these truths repeatedly into our hearts. And then, more than that, we access them and engage them and draw down their power into our everyday experience.

In prayer we watch words on a page turn a new leaf in us, both in our hearts and in our day-to-day living. In prayer we feel a bolstering that energizes us with holy confidence. In prayer we set off like trailblazers, carving fresh neural pathways within our brains, transforming the way we think of ourselves, receiving and believing our true identity—the one that was stamped on us the moment we ran to the foot of the cross. Pray long and hard enough, and not only do we realize we’re indeed alive, but we become angry—furious!—that we’ve been in mourning for so long, saddened by a tragedy whose outcome was totally misreported to us.

As adopted daughters of the living God, if we’re not strategically praying in accordance with who our Maker and Redeemer says we are, if we aren’t calling ourselves by name according to that list from Ephesians, serving the devil notice that we know (like he knows) who we really are, we’ll always be subject to his attempts at devaluing us. We’ll downplay our real strength. We’ll hate our bodies, highlight our weaknesses, cringe with insecurities, and constantly view ourselves as “less than” by comparison with others. He’ll diffuse our power simply by downplaying our true position.

If he can get you to believe his lies, you won’t feel equipped or entitled to stand up against him. You’ll be weak and helpless, and then he can run roughshod over you and over the things and people you love. The farther he can separate your practical reality from your true, living reality, he can wedge himself into the space between the two and short-circuit the free-flowing effectiveness of your influence as a wife, a mom, a friend, a daughter, a sister—all the relationships where God has placed you to be a light of His grace, His power, His love, His well-placed confidence.

That’s why you and I need to be praying—to keep the truth about our real identity in constant, unbroken focus before us.

The truth.

One of the pieces of spiritual armor supplied to us as believers (Eph. 6:14) centers in on this issue precisely. It is what’s commonly known as the “belt of truth.” More accurately, based on the history of what a first-century soldier’s gear was like, think of it as sort of a girdle, worn close around the body, with all his other pieces of armor tucked into it and held together by it. Underwear, kind of. A foundation garment. The first thing a soldier would put on before going into battle.

Truth—God’s standard and viewpoint about us—must come first in our hearts and minds if we want to be effective in battle against the enemy. We need to put it on as our foundational garment and then reorient everything else around it. Before we accessorize with trendy add-ons, before we drive off into the day, artificially covered by an outfit that only masks any of the lies the enemy is deceiving us into believing about ourselves, we should start with the underpinnings of truth, secured through prayer by the declarations of God’s Word. Because unless our whole ensemble is framed around this undergarment, we’re not really suited for spiritual battle. We’re not dressed for the occasion. Not ready for what’s coming.

That’s why the apostle Paul prayed so fervently that the true identity of those first-century believers would be unveiled in their hearts. Hear that again: He wasn’t asking God to make sure the early believers received these things. They already had them. He was praying they’d realize they already had them.

It wasn’t a shopping list; it was a packing list. They didn’t need to buy them, didn’t need to manufacture them. They just needed to recognize that they had access to them and could now receive them as their own to take full advantage of them.

Because sometimes, even with a closet full of clothes, we can look in and think there’s nothing to wear. But look again. Through the eyes of truth. And you might finally see that not only have you been given what you need but a whole lot more.

A whole, whole lot more.

Perhaps, again, the story of an experience between the Old Testament prophet Elisha and one of his servants can help us understand what we fail to see when we’re not looking at our lives through the lens of God’s truth.

Immediately on the heels of the floating ax head miracle in 2 Kings 6—which we talked about a few chapters ago—the Bible tells of war breaking out between a neighboring nation (the Arameans) and the people of Israel. While the king of Aram was working out his attack strategy, the Lord kept tipping off Elisha to the king’s intentions and movements. Then Elisha would deliver these divinely accurate spy reports to the king of Israel, who would redeploy his soldiers into perfectly placed, perfectly timed position to defend themselves.

Drove the king of Aram crazy—crazy enough to go hunting the mole among his ranks who was obviously working as a double agent, feeding Aramean intel to their opponent. But his enraged questioning eventually led him to the truth—that it was Elisha and his bedroom talks with God that were the real source behind these tactical leaks. And by the time the king surrounded the city where Elisha was located, intending to take him out by force, an even greater truth was about to be revealed.

The prophet’s attendant woke up early that morning, went outside to stretch his legs or something, and—whoa!—the whole place was teeming with horses and chariots and the clink of sharpened artillery, each of them assembled for a surgical strike. The servant ran back inside and—sounding a lot like the guy with the lost ax—started going all to pieces, stammering to his boss about their imminent danger.

Elisha, cool as ever, told him not to worry because “those who are with us are more than those who are with them” (2 Kings 6:16). Then setting the same lifestyle tone that Paul would exhibit so naturally in Ephesians 1, his next words to his servant were not a list of next steps to follow or a battle strategy to implement but a prayer to the Father: “O Lord, I pray, open his eyes that he may see” (v. 17).

When the terrified servant turned back around after hearing Elisha’s prayer, what he saw was not the physical reality of fire-breathing army troops itching to attack but rather the spiritual reality of a mountainside filled to the brim with angelic chariots of fire, surrounding, protecting, and preventing any warrior of the Aramean army from taking a single shot or making even one step toward them.

Prayer made him aware of all the resources and strength and protection that God had already placed on their side. Without this renewed perspective he was already defeated before the battle had even begun . . . before the day had even started.

That’s what the enemy wants. He wants you living in a state of defeat. Your defenses down. Your resolve weak and flimsy. Surrendering to an army of insecurities and misdiagnosis instead of courageously thriving in the sophisticated security of your identity in Christ.

Makes you wonder, then, why all we often tend to see when we look at ourselves are . . . flaws, inadequacies, failures, weaknesses. And sure, many of those things are really there. Left to our own devices, we really aren’t able to take it all on, not without help. But these difficulties and imperfections that can discourage us so desperately—the ones the devil wants to present as the sum total of our reality—are actually only a part of the battlefield. And that’s the part that is primed to display God’s glory. No matter what is against you, it is no match for the power and authority He’s given you access to. There may be armies standing against you, but they’re only waiting to become an unwitting witness to the overcoming power of God and the overriding ocean of His grace.

And prayer will open your eyes so you can see it—can see who you really are, that you are alive indeed, and that divine resources and riches and solutions are on your side, assets that make you “more than victorious” through the sheer size of His love (Rom. 8:37 hcsb).

This is the belt of truth.

Now. Put. It. On.

Call to Prayer

I wish we were sitting together over coffee and being uncharacteristically honest with each other. I’d share with you about how I often struggle to lift myself out of the doldrums of insecurity. About how strategic and consistently prayerful I’m forced to be in reminding myself that those flaws and weaknesses the enemy is hell-bent on accentuating are not more important or powerful than the strengths and resources I now have in Christ.

My struggle is the same as yours—like most every other woman at one point or another in her life.

The enemy has been telling us for so long that we’re no good, washed-up, underequipped, incompetent, insignificant, unlovable, and not quite up to par. He’s been brainwashing us, one feminine soul at a time. But now we both know the truth. We can see clearly that he’s been lying for the purpose of keeping us from even trying to put up a good fight against his planned attacks. But no more. We’re on to him. And like the family who found out that their beloved little girl was still alive after six long days and nights of grief, we’re excited, yes, but also angry to hear the news. Angry that we’ve been misled and that our emotions have been tampered with.

And now we’re ready to take that holy indignation into battle, on our knees, in prayer. We are fully alive and on the path to healing and wholeness. Our story isn’t even close to being over. We are already seated in heavenly places. We’re fully functional with weapons our enemy has no answer for. We are loved by God from before time began (Matt. 25:34), endowed already with the eternal Spirit of God (2 Cor. 1:22), and forgiven of even our most shameful sins (Rom. 4:7–8). If you can’t believe He’d do that for you, at least believe He’s done it as a testimony to the greatness of His name (Ps. 79:9) because He’s God and He likes to show it. That “head and not the tail” business from Deuteronomy 28:13? God has already seen to it that the only “tail” in this real-life drama is the one who’s destined to be thrown—head, tail, and all—into the “lake of fire and brimstone” (Rev. 20:10). Not you.

Not. You.

Not. Ever.

Because you are His . . . and He is yours.

Now build a prayer strategy using these passages (and others from this chapter) as a backdrop to remind yourself of this truth every day for the rest of your life.

God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so much, that even though we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead. (It is only by grace that you have been saved!) For he raised us from the dead along with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ Jesus. (Eph. 2:4–6 nlt)

I also clothed you with embroidered cloth and put sandals of porpoise skin on your feet; and I wrapped you with fine linen and covered you with silk. I adorned you with ornaments, put bracelets on your hands and a necklace around your neck. I also put a ring in your nostril, earrings in your ears and a beautiful crown on your head. . . . So you were exceedingly beautiful and advanced to royalty. (Ezek. 16:10–13)

As many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:12–13)

We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. (Eph. 2:10)

For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out ‘Abba! Father!’ The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him. (Rom. 8:15–17)

Look to the rock from which you were hewn

And to the quarry from which you were dug.
(Isa. 51:1)

The Lord has taken you and brought you out of the iron furnace, from Egypt, to be a people for His own possession. (Deut. 4:20)

Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me. (Isa. 49:16 esv)

For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves. (2 Cor. 4:6–7)

You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light. (1 Pet. 2:9)

Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen. (Jude 24–25)