I stood there, eyes closed, singing. I saw what looked like a cement block blow up and pieces fly everywhere in slow motion. Block after block destroyed.

Once the wall was gone, I saw a heart that had been mended, beating and alive.

I continued to pray.

The next thing I saw was anger, so I prayed that his heart would soften so that God’s love could be absorbed.

My thoughts wandered to the image that came to my mind earlier in the week… An image of a mannequin laying lifeless with holes all over her body.

A man walked up to her with a pitcher. As he poured the pitcher into the first hole, it closed up and became flesh.

Pitcher after pitcher he poured into the mannequin. Hole after hole, filled.

The mannequin stood up, full of life. Whole. Complete.

I thought about how I used to feel like that lifeless mannequin, with holes that I tried to fill with people, affirmation, and acceptance.

I was using the wrong pitcher, trying to fill myself with it.

I had to surrender to God so that He could provide the only things that could fill me… His love, His peace, His joy, His kindness, His patience, His truth, His protection, His hope, and His perseverance.

The person I have become since that day of surrender now stands full of life.

Whole.

Complete.

On my hike today I noticed several trees that had vines wrapped around them. At first, I thought it looked cool so I was going to take a picture. As I stepped closer to get a better angle, I realized that the vines were choking the trees. Strangling them.

As I walked further along the trail I realized that nearly every tree was entangled in vines.

A few of the larger trees were able to break free, and I applauded them (silently, in my mind).

The vines reminded me of things in my life that have tried to take me down. Choices I’ve made, past mistakes, things that have happened to me, and past hurts.

The vines took me down when I wallowed in self pity that led me into a deep pit.

I remember being at the bottom of that pit looking up, crying, yelling, screaming for help, and giving up.

I also remember being lifted out of the pit, seemingly lifeless, presented with the gift of a new life again.

Walking this trail today, seeing the massive trees that broke free from the vines that tried to take them down, I realized they were me.

As I accepted the gift of new life, I received new strength. The new strength is endlessly provided when I remain rooted in the gift giver, just as the trees remain rooted when they break free from the vines.

If I allow choices I’ve made, past mistakes, things that have happened to me, and past hurts to define me, I will end up entangled again. I will end up back in that pit.

I choose to accept them, all of them, and break free.

I choose to remain rooted in a new strength that is provided daily.

In the midst of the pain and the coughing, I cried out to God and it seemed like He was not listening.

I begged for healing.

My son drove me to the Emergency Room when the pain was too much to handle. I thought for sure I needed oxygen or some other kind of technology that wasn’t available to me at home. The symptoms I was experiencing weren’t going away after a week of feeling extremely sick, and they just didn’t seem to make sense.

As I sat in the waiting room for two hours, I watched three older men come in. Two of the men were immediately placed on oxygen as they waited for another 30 minutes in the chairs surrounding me. They were taken back to see the doctor before me. The third man was whisked away quickly since he couldn’t keep his eyes open and his oxygen level was extremely low.

Results from my X-rays and the bloodwork led to a diagnosis of viral pneumonia. A COVID test came back positive. My oxygen levels were normal, so I was sent home the same day.

As I walked down the long hallway on my way out, I had to stop at an intersection where one of the men who walked in to the ER after me was being pushed down the hallway in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask covering his face.

It was in that moment that I felt like God showed me His protection. He protected and strengthened my lungs. I have asthma but COVID didn’t attack my lungs enough for me to need oxygen. Looking back, now that I am healed, I see this as a miracle.

I didn’t feel completely healed until a week after that trip to the Emergency Room. I coughed so hard my ribs felt broken. I alternated doses of pain relief medication: 600 mg of Motrin and 1000 mg of Tylenol every 3-4 hours that just eased the pain a fraction. I was prescribed Robitussin with codeine that knocked me out for one short hour at a time. I couldn’t sit up or breathe without coughing. It was the worst experience I have ever gone through.

I felt better last Monday after two weeks of the pain and the coughing.

I have gone on four hikes since then. Every breath of fresh air that filled my lungs felt like a gift.

I stood on the bank of a river, surrounded by peace, and whispered, “I love you God.”

It seemed like He responded with a whisper to my soul: “I love you too, my precious daughter.”

His love is so tender and amazing.

I have so much to be thankful for.

Going through this sickness was a great reminder of God’s protection, healing, and love.

Even though I was discouraged in the worst moments and I even felt like God didn’t care and wasn’t listening…

He provided,

He protected,

He loved,

and

He healed.

Ariel from the Little Mermaid willingly gave up her voice and her relationship with her father when presented with a lie.

Students who are being taught lies give up their voices unknowingly.

People all over the world are being robbed of their voices that could stop the violence.

Violence is fueled by the lies we are being told about our country.

Division and animosity are rising out of the ashes that were already defeated.

The ashes are being stirred up to give a voice to division.

Our country is being divided as people are falling prey to the same lie that Ariel did: your voice doesn’t matter.

Without a voice, truth is being muted.

Without truth, our world is weak.

We are called to stand firm and to not be swayed.

We are not empty souls.

We are not pawns on a chess board full of powerful people in society who get to move us wherever they please.

We must stand up to the lies and fight for truth to be taught.

We have souls that are bold.

We have voices that must be heard.

I was speaking with a friend today when I felt like I could see her heart in the same glass dome as the enchanted rose in the classic fairytale.

The dome, the fragile glass dome, was the only thing that protected the rose.

Is that how fragile our hearts are?

As I pictured her fragile heart in that glass dome, I saw something else. Gentle hands picked up the glass dome, pulled out her heart, and held it close. Her heart became part of the hands that held it.

As I spoke to my friend, I realized that we treat our hearts like they are replaceable. We offer them up to people as if they can withstand the elements that we expose them to. We allow people to use them up and toss them out as if they can grow again, just like an octopus whose arms can regenerate.

Our hearts cannot regenerate.

Sometimes the emotional pain is too much to bare.

Those gentle hands do not want us to allow others to use us up and toss us out.

Those gentle hands want our hearts to remain in them where they are protected from the elements.

She was exhausted as she sat with her back against the wall and head in her hands. She looked over at the shield in the corner and wondered where it came from. It was covered in cobwebs. Unable to stand up, she crawled over to it and wiped the layers of dust off.

As the dust fell, she started to wake up.

She gained strength. Enough strength to stand. She stood up for the first time in months, lifted the shield up and slowly walked toward the door.

With each step forward, her eyes saw a light that grew brighter.

The darkness that tried to strangle her was disappearing as the shield moved into it.

The arrows that previously stabbed her in the heart were now hitting the shield.

She was protected.

The light remained ahead of her, illuminating her path. She tested it a few times by tiptoeing off of the path… it grew dim each time, so she jumped back on with both feet.

When the shield grew heavy, she set it down. The arrows pierced her heart again.

How can I carry this? It is too heavy!

“Rely on Me,” she heard whispered to her soul.

Picking the shield back up, it wasn’t heavy at all. It felt like someone else was carrying it for her.

The path grew more narrow, but remained illuminated.

The arrows never ceased to strike the shield.

I remembered another name: Daughter.

I sit behind families every week and I watch the way they interact. For some reason, I’m always drawn to the way the fathers adore their daughters.

One week I watched a mom walk in with her three girls who surprised their dad. Their game was cancelled, so they wanted to be with their dad. Their hugs tugged at my heart as their excitement to see each other poured out all over the place.

Last week I saw a little girl, about two years old, just cuddle her daddy in the most beautiful way. Her adorable, sweet little head fit perfectly on his shoulder and her precious face rested against his neck. She was completely at peace.

This week I watched a few fathers smile at their daughters in a way that spoke volumes of affirmation to them. Their father’s affirmation will carry them. They won’t look for it in all of the wrong places that the world offers.

This week we sang a song called, “Who You Say I Am.” I’ve mentioned this song before in my blog post titled “Redemption.”

Some of the lyrics state, “I am chosen, not forsaken… He has ransomed me… There’s a place for me (in heaven)… He is for me, not against me… I am a child of God… I am free.”

When I first heard the song I realized how amazing it is to be called all of those things.

Another name that was not in the song, another identity I have been called is “Daughter.”

This might seem like common sense to some of my readers. I will spare you the details of why that name means so much to me. Knowing I am called “Daughter” by God is powerful. Knowing that despite my sin, my mistakes, my judgements, my harsh words, and my wrong attitudes, that I am still called “Daughter,” is grace, mercy, and LOVE.

The same love I see week after week displayed between the fathers and daughters I sit behind is the same love I feel DAILY.

So, to answer the question “Who Am I?” that I asked in the title of of this blog…

I am HIS.

I am a DAUGHTER of THE MOST LOVING FATHER!

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/reclaiming-womanhood-with-allison-powers/id1518409740?uo=4

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I struggled with this question for most of my forty-five years here on earth. I was lost.

I knew I was a daughter, a sister, a wife for about ten years, and a mother for the past twenty years. Beyond those identities, I was confused.

The question was first asked to me when I was at church a few years ago. I felt like I was taking a very important test that I should have studied for. I couldn’t come up with the answer, so I dug deep.

And then, I hit a brick wall.

Out of frustration, I threw my hands up and asked God. I had to listen for a long time. I asked again, and then listened even more intently.

Finally, I heard God whisper this word to me: “healer.”

The answer was clear, but I was still confused. How could I be a healer? Wasn’t that something only God could do?

I read this in the Bible: “Jesus gave His twelve disciples authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every kind of disease and every kind of sickness” (Matthew 10:1), and this, “Freely you received, freely give” (Matthew 10:8).

Even though I wasn’t sure what this identity looked like on me, I decided to wear it anyway. I asked God to show me how to wear it, and I promised to do what He asked of me.

Shortly after that, I started writing this blog about my healing journey and the obstacles that I was able to overcome as God healed me.

Watching the movie, “Overcomer,” with my daughter this past week was another confirmation of this identity.

The main character was writing down all of her identities from Ephesians 1:6-8:

Loved

Redeemed

Forgiven

Rich in His grace

Wise

Insightful

Known

Made on purpose, for a unique purpose

Powerful

Adopted and chosen by God

Sealed

As she wrote each one I realized that God felt that way about me too, and that is why He sent Jesus to die for me. I felt a fresh tear on my cheek with every promise.

The one that speaks the loudest to me right now as I am working on my Masters Degree in School Counseling is “made on purpose for a unique purpose.”

Our fingerprints are as unique as a zebra’s stripes.

My path was paved for me alone.

My purpose cannot be fulfilled by anyone else. Neither can yours!

So, to answer the question in the title of this blog, “Who am I?”

I am His.

I know my purpose.

I hope, and pray, that you know yours too.