The only identity that never fails me

A pull quote from DaySpring contributing writer Dawn Camp that reads,

From late March to October, I filter my life through the lens of Major League Baseball, Braves baseball in particular. We subscribe to one channel to watch the regular season and another for postseason games. When we eat out, we choose restaurants based on whether they play the games on TV. 

My emotions can soar or bottom out with the swing of a bat or a run on the scoreboard. My watch warns me when I’m in a loud environment, but it’s just me, yelling at the television. I schedule my life around crucial games. My critique group skipped a week because our meeting coincided with the National League Division Series. We would’ve sold tickets to a concert I’d looked forward to for months if we’d needed to play a fifth game (unfortunately, we didn’t). 

Sometimes I cry over games we win, and sometimes over games we lose. I’m a super fan. 

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On a good day, baseball rewards me: My team sweeps a series. We have tickets to a home game and watch from the stands. My favorite pitcher fans the rival player I love to hate. (I’ll refrain from naming names.) 

On a bad day, errors cost us the game; our bats are asleep; a crucial player goes on the injured list. It’s an emotional roller coaster that resets almost daily, with each new game. 

During the day, I write and study writing, especially fiction. My podcast and Instagram feeds are full of craft lessons, author interviews and tips from literary agents. When my manuscript is as ready as I can make it, I’ll query agents and work toward my goal: publication. 

Writing makes me needy, desperate for feedback. In a perfect world, my husband and query group, who are my first readers, can drop everything and read each new chapter the moment I finish. 

On a good writing day, I craft the perfect metaphor, exceed my word-count expectations, finish a chapter knowing in my bones that I nailed it.  

On a bad day, the words won’t come. The feedback shows I missed my mark. I don’t win the contest or a spot at the writing retreat. People posing as literary agents or reading community curators try to scam me out of money or my manuscript, using my needs and vulnerabilities against me. 

The tighter we cling to our identities—mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, sports fan, writer (or whatever your line of work)—the greater the power of those identities to elate or devastate us. 

We can find ourselves in an identity crisis.  

Sometimes our children make us proud; at other times they disappoint us. We have the same effect on them. 

Sometimes our husbands make us feel loved and cherished; at other times they make us feel ignored and unseen. We do the same to them. 

Some days we shine at our jobs, intelligent and capable; other days, we get the pink slip or someone else gets the promotion. 

We fail. People fail us. I don’t know about you, but y’all, I am messed up. When my identity relies on any or all of these things, I ricochet between the mountaintop and rock bottom, based on human failings or the whims of this world. 

The only identity that never fails me, that centers me: child of God, beloved daughter of the King, adored sister of Jesus  

In the morning, I stand in my backyard, eyes closed, whispering gratitude into the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Thank you, Lord, for this day. For family, health, home and Your gracious provision. For fall in the air, my sweet dog companion and Your glorious creation. Amen. 

When I lie awake at night, obsessing over words I can’t take back, disappointments or things I can’t change, I find comfort in prayer and communion with the One who never fails or neglects me, with Whom I’m always perfectly seen and known. 

Fear not when your team loses the game, your child wrecks the car, your husband forgets the anniversary or you lose the job. When you have an identity crisis, remember who and Whose you are, and lean into your identity in Christ. 

A black and white portrait of DaySpring contributing author Dawn Camp.

After homeschooling her eight children, Dawn Camp now devotes her time and love of stories to writing her first novel while raising three of her grandchildren. She enjoys mugs of Earl Grey, Taco Tuesdays, book clubbing, and cheering on the Braves. Dawn and her husband navigate a never-emptying nest in the Atlanta suburbs. Find her work at https://dawncamp.com.