Losing Your Definition

My friend has a dog, Ellie. I mentioned her in an earlier blog. She is a miniature dachshund. Well, she is supposed to be miniature. She weighs about fifteen pounds. Her veterinarian says she has lost her definition. She doesn't exactly have the shape that she should have. Just last night as I started writing this blog, my friend's daughter sent me a text with the following picture and note:

"Ellie's weight gain caused her to not be able to wear her cute outfits anymore. This was as far as it was able to go."

Poor Ellie. As I began to think about that, I thought to myself that I can relate to Ellie. I sometimes feel like I have "lost my definition" in life. I do not mean physically, but emotionally and socially. Anyone will tell you that going through a divorce is one of the quickest ways to find yourself right in the middle of an enormous identity crisis.

For twenty-one years, I was Jason's wife. I was a minister's wife for fifteen of those years. Now what? That part of my life is no more, and that was such a big part of what defined me. Now I must redefine myself to some extent. I am slowly discovering who this Amy is, and I am finding that while some things have changed, most have not.

Some things are different but still the same:

I am no longer Jason's wife, but I am still his friend and the mother of his children. I parent two amazing girls along with him. We work together, just as we always have, to help them be the very best that they can be.

I am no longer a minister's wife, but I am still a disciple of Christ. I will no longer attend District Christmas parties or Annual Conference. But there are many things that I did as a minister's wife that I still do. Just last week, I sang and spoke at a funeral. I was not their pastor's wife. I was just a good friend of the family. But the words, the song, and the way that I ministered to the family were the same.

Some things have not changed at all:

I am a daughter and a sister. I have an amazing family that loves me unconditionally and allows me to make my own way in this journey.

I am a friend. I love many, and I am loved by many.

I am a teacher. I have the privilege of working with some really neat students who have been a great source of help and encouragement during my journey. I like to think that I have made a difference in their lives as well.

The beauty of all of these things is that through the last six months, I have seen how precious and necessary these relationships are. I do not think that I could not have gotten through these difficult times without each one of the groups mentioned above.

One thing has changed greatly:

I am a survivor. My world was turned upside down and inside out. I went through and continue to go through the fire, but I am coming out on the other side. Am I unscathed? No. I was broken, and God is rebuilding me still. There is a quote by Barbara Bloom that a friend shared with me.

"When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful."

It is my prayer that God would fill all my cracks with His love, His mercy, His grace, and His goodness. Then no longer will my "definition" by lost! I will not be the same as before, but the beauty is that I can be ever stronger, wiser, and better.

I will bring that group through the fire
and make them pure.
I will refine them like silver
and purify them like gold.
They will call on my name,
and I will answer them.
I will say, ‘These are my people,’
and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God."

Zechariah 13:9