“You want what?” Amos stood in the middle of the office floor looking in confusion from his boss’s thick face to the floor and back to his boss.
His boss smiled uncomfortably. “I know it’s a little different, but my legal counsel is recommending it, and I intend to follow through.” He smiled and nodded, running a soft hand over the cold marble surface of his desk. He smiled again, a wide smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “After all, what is the purpose of retaining legal counsel if we don’t follow through on their expert advice?”
*****
“I don’t understand it, I just don’t.”
Amos was pacing the floor of Uncle Todd’s little mountain cabin, his hands clenched in his pockets, his head down, scowling at the hand-planed floorboards.
“Don’t understand what?” Uncle Todd sat forward on his Windsor chair, elbows on his knees, eyes concerned.
“I don’t understand why people do what they do.”
“Such as?”
“Yesterday I wanted to make arrangements to take the boys out hunting. Jared said we could go hunting on his land if we were just shooting does to fill the freezer. He has that big block of land out near the state park and it has a cabin on it. It’s the perfect place to take the boys out for an overnight stay and hunt.”
“Jared is your boss, right?”
Amos stopped pacing and nodded, biting his lip, still looking at the floor. “That’s right. Anyway, yesterday I stopped by the office to tell him we’d be going over there this morning and he . . . he looked really uncomfortable and hemmed around and finally said he wanted me to get hunter’s insurance to hunt on his land and stay in his cabin.”
“Hunter’s insurance?” Uncle Todd looked genuinely amazed and a bit confused.
Amos paused and looked at him. It wasn’t often that an idea caught Uncle Todd off guard, but this appeared to have done it.
“Hunter’s insurance?” Uncle Todd repeated.
“It’s a policy that protects the landowner if an accident happens while someone is hunting or staying on his land.”
“You mean if something happened to you? But you wouldn’t sue. Surely he knows that.”
Amos rubbed one hand over the back of the other and shook his head. “I guess it’s not just that. It covers accidental fires and other things as well but really, whatever happened to just . . . just trusting the Lord?”
Uncle Todd nodded and ran a hand over the side of his face, looking down thoughtfully at the wooden pony he’d been carving.
“I mean . . . the man has more money than he’ll ever need.” Amos shook his head. “Everything is about money with him, everything. If it’s not a good deal for him he’s not interested. Why does everything have to be about money?”
“What if it’s not?”
Amos stopped pacing and looked at Uncle Todd.
Uncle Todd sat, knife in one hand and wooden pony in the other, looking up at Amos with an intent expression.
“What do you mean?”
“What if it’s not all about the money?”
“What else would it be about?”
“Identity.”
“What?”
“Identity. Identity is the real reason many people do the strange things they do.”
“Such as . . .?”
“Our identity is really our most precious asset. It’s who we are. Most people are not secure in their identity and as such they live lives of insecurity and fear. It comes out in a multitude of ways. Once you know about it you can see it everywhere.”
“Okay . . .” Amos said, pulling up the other old Windsor chair. “Explain.”
“We all have an identity. It is who we are, and we will protect it for all we’re worth.”
“So . . . if people would just stop being so insecure everything would be fine?”
“No, it would be worse.”
“It would be worse if people weren’t insecure? Why so?”
“Because most people should be insecure.”
“Why?”
“Because they have put their identity in an insecure place. It’s not safe.”
“Should it be?”
“Absolutely. God never intended for us to walk around in a state of insecurity but that is the natural result of placing our identity in an insecure place.”
“But what about all the stuff the world says about building self-esteem? How does all that enter in here? I always thought that was rubbish.”
“It is. Doubly so because it offers a solution that only papers over the real problem and does nothing to heal the underlying real need.”
“So why insecurity? Can we lose our identity?”
“Absolutely. If we put our identity in the wrong thing, we can sense it and we feel the very real danger of identity loss. And believe me,” Uncle Todd fixed Amos in a steady stare, his eyes intense under his bushy eyebrows, “it is a real danger. People will always try to protect their identity.”
“What does that look like?”
“It depends. It depends on what we put our identity in as to what that looks like. Some people put their identity in something very shallow like wealth. They may not admit it even to themselves, but the fact they are wealthy is who they really are. Because who they are is bound up in their assets, they have to protect their assets carefully. They must carefully structure their businesses using LLC’s, corporations, and insurance; lots and lots of insurance.”
“Huh, and even hunter’s insurance,” Amos nodded, grinning.
Uncle Todd didn’t smile. “It may come closer home than we think. Wealth isn’t the only thing we can put our identity in. It’s only one item on a long list. Often, we go for more noble sounding identities. For example, you could put your identity in being a good father. That’s what you want to be and that’s who you are.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Everything. Because if that is your identity it is open to loss. So, what happens if one of the children acts up in public? What happens if that child makes you look like a bad father?”
“I . . . I . . . don’t know.” Amos looked thoughtful, even pensive.
“What happens,” Uncle Todd said, “is that you feel the threat to your identity as a good father and you react. You may react any number of different ways but regardless of how you react to your identity crisis, it will cloud your thinking and negatively affect your judgment. In reality, whether you look bad or not is not the point. The one thing that really matters is that you do what is best for that child and for the family. That is hard or nearly impossible to do if your identity is wrapped up in that child making you look like a good father.”
“Oh . . .” Amos nodded and looked away, scrubbing one foot against the other, the self-righteousness quietly draining from the room.
“Also, because we as humans cannot fully grasp what it means to be a good father, or a good mother, we often zero in on a few elements that, to us, symbolize being a good father or mother.
“For example, a woman may have her identity as being a good mother. In her subconscious mind a good mother is someone who has all the children and grandchildren over for the holidays and they sit around the campfire and sing and everybody is there. If that happens, she feels satisfied, at least a little, because there is tangible proof that she is a good mother and grandmother.”
Uncle Todd flipped the pony over in his hand and scraped the roughness from its flank with a scraper. The room was silent except for the sound of the scraper on wood.
“Okay,” Amos finally said. “Go on.”
“So . . .” Uncle Todd looked up. “So, what do you think happens if one of the children decides not to come home for the holidays?”
“A problem?” Amos asked.
“Yes. A problem. They may have a completely legitimate reason for not coming. Maybe they have been putting a lot of money toward supporting a family in the church with big medical bills. Maybe they are the family in the church with big medical bills, and they have been getting financial help and feel the need to be very careful because they know they are living on others’ money. Regardless, it is a problem to the mother. She needs them to be there. Her identity is at risk.”
“So what happens?”
“It depends, but there are likely outcomes. She will call them and encourage them to come. And then maybe call again. If that doesn’t work, she may call one of the siblings who she knows is particularly close to her son and have that person call him and encourage him to come. She may point out that this is a special year and it would really mean a lot to his father. One way or another she’ll probably find a way to turn up the pressure. If none of that works, she might even resort to blaming her daughter-in-law, either out loud, or in her head, because that allows her to explain to her own mind that it really isn’t the fault of her son and hence her parenting. And really, she feels she has to. Her identity as a good mother is at stake.”
“Oh . . .” Amos nodded soberly.
“The driving need to control others not under our authority is almost always driven by insecurity and insecurity is almost always driven by misplaced identity. We resort to control and blaming when our identity is threatened.”
If a school teacher gets his identity as a teacher and a student comes along who struggles, he may blame the student. After all, the others are learning just fine so it has to be the student. Of course, blaming the student, consciously or unconsciously, closes the teacher’s mind, allows him to stop looking for solutions, and shifts the responsibility away from the teacher as a responsible person.”
“I see . . .” Amos was nodding, thoughtful.
Uncle Todd continued. “We can place our identity in anything. Our ability to speak, sing, manage, write, keep our yard immaculate, keep our buggy or car clean, anything really. Even in our willingness to sacrifice.”
“How’s that?”
“Some people get a perverse pleasure out of identifying as the martyr. They are always the one giving up to everyone else, but then carrying around the air of a martyr for all to see.”
“Okay but . . . I see what you mean, but what’s wrong with putting others first?”
“It’s not putting others first that’s the problem, at least not normally. It’s that person’s identity as a martyr that is the problem. They usually find ways of letting others know just how much a saint and martyr they really are.”
“But what’s wrong with being a martyr? Jesus was a martyr.”
“True, but that wasn’t His identity. He gave His life because that was necessary to save and reconcile the human race. He didn’t even want to do it, as you remember from His prayer in the garden. He did it because He loved us and it’s what we needed and what the kingdom of God needed.”
“I see,” Amos looked thoughtful. “Well, how can we know where our identity really is?”
“Let’s say our identity is in our intelligence, education, wealth, or having a well-known name. If we walk into a room full of people with less intelligence, education, wealth, or name recognition and we feel pretty good, that’s a clue. If we walk into a room where many present are more intelligent, have more education, wealth, or name recognition and we feel inferior, that’s a clue your identity is in the wrong place. And if you feel the need to control or blame others, that is a very strong clue we have a misplaced identity.”
Amos nodded, sober. “I see. So, where can we put our identity? Where will it be safe?”
“Look at Jesus. He is the healer, giver of sight, the resurrection, the way, the truth, the life. He is the Word of God. He is God. Yet He has one identity that was very precious to Him that we can also claim. An identity in which we can find security.”
“As . . . as a child of God?” Amos ventured.
“That’s right,” Uncle Todd said quietly. “That’s right.”
“But . . . but we can lose our relationship with God.”
“We can.” Uncle Todd nodded. “We can but that is a choice we make. It’s not dependent on fate, weather, the whims of others, luck, markets, public opinion, or even the good behavior of those close to us. All those things can be lost, and we can still choose to be a child of God.”
“But . . .” Amos protested, “there are plenty of people who are Christians, even conservative Christians who live exactly like all those insecure people you talked about. They live with the insecurity and fear and . . . and the need to control or blame others.”
“And that’s the sad thing,” Uncle Todd said.
“So what’s the solution?”
“Give it to God.”
“What?”
“Give the whole thing to God. Intentionally, deliberately. Go to God and tell Him He can have your identity. Give it to Him. Give Him your reputation. Your identity. Accept no core identity but that of a child of God. We carry few burdens in life heavier than the burden of your identity not resting with God. Leave it with Him.”
“It’s that simple?”
“It’s simple but not easy. Furthermore, you can’t just do it once. You have to do it over and over. It’s a lot like forgiving someone who has badly injured someone you love. You have to do it repeatedly until slowly it becomes part of you. It becomes who you really are, and you can walk in the freedom of laying down that burden.”
Neither man said anything for a long moment then Amos stood suddenly and nodded.
“Thanks, Uncle Todd,” he said, his voice thick. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’d better be getting home now. Don’t want my wife waiting on me for supper.”
He nodded again and let himself out the cabin door.
The door thumped shut but Uncle Todd sat staring at it a long moment listening to the crunch of Amos’ boots fading down the trail.
“I’ll be praying for you, Amos,” he finally whispered. “I’ll be praying for you.”
But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: John 1:12
Darryl Derstine lives in Holmes County Ohio with his wife and
7 children. If you have questions about stewardship and gifting,
or to request a copy of this article, you can reach Darryl or one
of the CAM Foundation team at bss@camoh.org or 330-893-4915.
Read more articles on our website at www.camf.org.
