There is a girl that I am. And then there is a girl I want to be.

The first me is kind of boring, so let’s talk about the second me. That girl jumps out of bed, ready to start the day. Her hair is styled with nothing out of place, her make-up is flawless and her outfits always coordinated. She is witty, funny, and knows what to say and when. She is skilled at what she does, whether it be piano playing, cookie baking, race running, or test taking. She knows who she is.

Are you snickering yet behind your computer screen? Yeah, that girl looks…nothing like me. But that doesn’t keep me from comparing myself to her and wishing I was more like her. At times, it can be down right disappointing.

I see so many girls my age looking for an identity they can call their own. They seek to define themselves by their appearance, by their relationships, by a boyfriend, by their academic achievements or athletic abilities. They want something tangible to grab on to and say “This is who I am”.

I know because I do it too. When my sisters and I were little, we used to spend hours down in our dingy, musty, and crowded basement — in our eyes, the kingdom of imagination. Some of my happiest memories were made down there. It is where our T.V. show, “Sisters on the Air” (S.O.T.A) was filmed. It is where Elizabeth set up whole Barbie neighborhoods around the dehumidifier, boxes of photo albums and 70′s records, and under the organ no one ever played (what, you don’t have an organ in your basement?). It is where princess hats, lacy shawls and skirts made bedsheets were donned for tea parties and trips on the Oregon Trail (we were stylish pioneers). It is where, for one hour or afternoon, I became the girl I wanted to be.

As I’ve grown, it feels as though I haven’t gotten any closer to my “ideal”. I can’t define myself by a superb fashion sense, large circle of friends, velvet tongue, race medals, or perfect school grades. These goals are elusive — always just beyond my grasp.”Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” (Matthew 6:27)

I’ve come to realize that the girl I want to be may not be the girl I should be. God has a different, grander plan and purpose for my life then what I think is best right here and now. I do not create my identity; the same Creator who formed man from the dust of the earth, gave him breath and soul, is forming me. “But now, O LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand” (Isaiah 64:18)

Who am I? Who are you, child of God? I can find no better definition than the one provided in God’s own Word:
“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory” (Colossians 3:1-4)

There it is in a nutshell: Christ who is your life. Without an intimate, growing relationship with Jesus Christ, I can’t be who I was created to be. No matter how much I exercise, how many friends I have, or how confident an image I present, the things on this earth are mere distractions. The prize is found in fixing my mind on things of God. Hungering for more of Christ because it is Christ who is my life and who provides me with purpose and identity. Thus says the LORD, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: “I am the LORD your God, who teaches you to profit, who leads you in the way you should go (Isaiah 48:17).

The girl I want to be wants to be noticed for her own sake. She wants the praise and admiration of other people so she can feel secure and loved. The girl I should be, the girl I was created to be, attracts attention to her Creator. She may be insignificant in herself, but the glory and beauty she reflects is far from mediocre. She has her faults but she keeps pressing on, her eyes fixed on Jesus. His Word is her comfort, His presence her security. She is content to be a vessel of her Maker.

“But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ Has the potter no right over the clay?” (Romans 9:19-20).

So I lay myself on the Potter’s wheel, willing to be handled and reshaped by His tender, sovereign hands. He changes me into the girl He wants me to be.

And that is the girl I want to be.