Schizophrenic Complications
In the short time that I've been able to don the title married lady, I've already been faced with the nagging question I thought I had finally rid myself of... "Who am I?" There are three major areas/roles that keep dragging this question up for air against my vehement wishes to let it sink to the bottom of the sea of forgetfulness with all the other junk I'd rather not deal with.
Spousal Obligations
First, the role of being a wife. Pre-nuptial Sam (a.k.a. "Da Broje") was spontaneous, disorganized, and independent. Naturally, as a right-brain dominant chick, I embraced creativity and made most decisions on impulse. In fact, the more friends grew to know me, the more often the term weird would be connected to my name; I was actually proud of that fact. I kind of felt like I had achieved a certain level of transparency with people when they would identify me as such. Post-nuptial Sam is now learning to be more reliable, submissive, and clean. All those left-brain skills that I once dismissed as unnecessary are now on standby every day as they come into play with most discussions we have as a couple. With the care of my husband and home taking top priority in my life, I can no longer act as carefree and random as I once did. Now don't get me wrong, I still get the incredulous side eye from Ray with the remark that I'm weird, but most of "Broje" in me is slowly becoming more domesticated. I suppose this will happen even more once I become a mother.
Cultural Foundations
Second is the role of culture. Most people don't realize it until they're affronted with a culture contrary to theirs, but we all have a cultural identity. Some of the things that seem "normal" to you are only so because they are just that... cultural norms that you've been taught from childhood. Being married to a man from a completely different culture has really opened my eyes to how American I truly am. The differences between our cultures reach much deeper than which side of the road to drive on. They even reach deeper than appropriate types of dress and speech. Culture influences the way we believe our family should be structured, the way we read and understand the Bible, and much more. There are certain expectations I face as a wife, but adding culture to those expectations makes it that much more difficult for me to know exactly what it is I'm supposed to be doing with myself to make my husband happy. I have to learn his culture to get a better idea of what he expects of me.
Righteous Anticipations
The third role I'm grappling with, that many of you have in common with me, is called being a Christian. There was a time before I got married when I thought I was Miss Holier-Than-Thou-So-Don't-Even-Try-To-Step-To-My-Level-Cuz-Perfection-Is-My-Burden-To-Bear. I had even gotten so bold as to tell God months before Ray and I officially got together that I believed I had reached the end of what I could learn as a single person, so marriage would be a nice challenge. And so God proceeded to let all the air out of my big head... Since the day I said "I do", so much foul stuff has surfaced in my heart, I barely recognize who I am anymore. Sometimes Ray looks completely bewildered when I spit at him some of the most hateful things I've ever said; I look at myself the same way. I often wonder, What happened to those days in college when I would worship, pray, and feast on the Word for hours? Where did that girl go? When did I become so mean? As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm still sweet and of admirable character, but Ray... oh, Ray... he has seen the pit of hell and lived to tell the story. It's the weirdest thing though. This pressure cooker called marriage is really showing who has the stronger relationship with God. I've been saved longer than Ray, read the entire Bible multiple times through, can easily recall Scripture and apply it to any question I'm asked, and I've served in ministry most of my life, yet he is the one who demonstrates the actual fruit of the Spirit. It turns out I'm not as holy as I thought I was when I was single... I'm actually quite wretched and depraved. This category has been the toughest for me deal with because it influences both of the preceding categories. If I don't learn how to live by the Spirit, I'll do nothing but gratify the desires of my flesh when it comes to letting go of my independence and making compromise in cultural conflict.
Christ In Me the Hope Of Glory
So it seems like the revival of the question "Who am I" is something I'm going to have to deal with until the day I can answer dust. In the meantime, I think it's time for me relearn what it means to be crucified with Christ. Above all else, I pray that all that I am is transformed into His likeness; that His traits, His identity becomes one in the same with mine. Of course there are unique bits of me that will not change because He created me that way, but if Christ is living in me, then He becomes the default answer to my question. I pray this becomes the truth I live from this day forward.