How do you know who you are?

About twenty years ago, I could be defined as a happy stay-at-home mother of two, living in the bustling Midwest, about twenty minutes from my grandmother who raised me. 

I was about as happy as my Scandinavian heritage of work and worry allowed.  My husband was employed as a computer programmer and brought home the bacon.  We were members of a nearby church.  I went to women's Bible studies led by the pastor and felt supported by the intimate relationships established there.  I enjoyed visiting my grandmother frequently, eating her apple pies, companionably talking over the ironies of life, and going together to garage sales to hunt for bargains.

In January 1990, a couple came to our church and spoke of their experiences with Habitat for Humanity International in the Solomon Islands.  My husband and I looked at each other about halfway through the presentation and mutually decided, "Why not sign up with Habitat?" 

By May 1990, my husband had resigned his position, we had sold the house and the two cars, and our possessions were farmed out to the basements of friends. We were ready to head out and help homeless, third world people have decent, affordable houses. And we felt sure we would have the support of our families, our church and the community of Habitat for Humanity.

But then I found out, to my dismay, that my grandmother did not see our desire to help others as an expression of our thankfulness to God for all His blessings. Instead, she said we were ungrateful to be throwing all He had given us back in His face. She was sure that traveling and living in a third world country would result in death for our children, ages 3 and 6, if not for all of us. 

It was clear that I was not a granddaughter blessed by my grandmother's hopes and prayers.

Right before we departed our hometown to drive to Americus, GA for training, a friend of mine from Bible study came to our house. She tearfully shared how our pastor had seemed to be understanding, caring and supportive when she told him of her unhappy marriage. But now the pastor was stalking her and making sexual demands. 

I was shocked. After she left, I knew we were not members of a healthy, supportive church that would cheer us on and claim us as their missionaries. Another identity had been stripped away. 

No matter. Surely when we got to Americus, we would be gathered into the arms of experienced members of the housing ministry. They would understand our questions, steady us, inspire us and join us in singing praises to God.  We would serve Him together in making a difference in the lives of people who needed God and decent dwellings.

When we arrived in Americus, we were encouraged to attend the morning meetings and our classes. The morning meetings seemed to center around the messages of "moving on," and "forgiveness."  We heard the messages so often that we came to wonder, "What is the community supposed to forgive?"

It turned out the Satan of sexual impropriety had raised his ugly head at Habitat. The founder of the ministry, who was still actively involved, had been accused of harassing several female staff members. We were newcomers to a ministry in turmoil.

Without our families, our church and Habitat for Humanity to support and define us, who were we? 

The resounding answer was this: we were God's.

"When all has been stripped away, there is only Me. You are face-to-face with the fact that you are children of a Living God. It is I who supports you, guides you, shows you where you will go and how you will build homes. It is I Who will make a difference. You are to glorify Me. Not yourselves, your families, your church or Habitat for Humanity. I will show My love to my third world children in spite of earthly delusions and dilemmas."

And that is what God did. We were able to help 100 families build 100 houses. And we found out who we are: we are all children of a faithful, gracious, loving Father. Glory be to God!

"As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds his people both now and forevermore." (Psalm 125: 2)

Have you ever had a moment where you found out you weren't who you thought you were? How did you respond?

Susan Jacobson is a newly 61-year old female who presently resides in Bismarck ND. There is only so much Spider Solitaire a woman can play before thinking, "Hmm, what else can I do before I die?" From this arose her interest in blogging as a way to share with other women and praise God. Read more JOY posts by Susan.

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