I’ve said it before: Darkness breeds despair.

Though my body has been healed and is no longer the cause of sleepless nights, my mind still wanders. And in that restless darkness, words that were never said, only assumed, bounce around in the hollowness of my brain, when the rational portion of the evening has ended and darkness comes out to play. I begin to question all that I’ve ever done and said and how anyone has ever tolerated me.

And then I remember when those I’ve loved haven’t tolerated me. And I wander even further down the dark path.

Last night, as I attempted to shut down my mind, I heard in my head two songs that have been playing almost on repeat from my kitchen speaker: Who You Say I Am by Hillsong Worship (“I am chosen, not forsaken. I am who you say I am.”) and “You Say” by Lauren Daigle (“You say I am loved when I can’t feel a thing. You say I am strong when I think I am weak.”) and I try to find the path to light, asking within myself, “Who does God say that I am?”

I know all those answers in those songs, the things I’ve seen in lists and Bible studies, words gleaned from the pages of New Testament letters to the body of Christ and Old Testament words spoken by God to his prophets and leaders, and they’re beautiful and correct, but there was still a part of me that wanted something more. Something personal. Spoken to me.

So, I asked Him, in prayer, “Who do you say that I am?”

And immediately I heard those words echoing off the chambers of my heart back to myself, the words spoken to Peter, now asked to me, “Who do you say that I am?”

And I realized I’m getting it all wrong.

I mean, not completely, because our identity in Christ is so important. And hearing the truths of what the Bible says about the body of Christ can be oh-so-helpful in the dark times, but in the end, it’s not the point of the Word of God to affirm us, to determine who we are.

Who do I say that He is?

He is Master. Lord. Creator. The Messiah. My Salvation. My Redemption. Everything.

And when I dwell on these truths, every label I’ve ever applied to myself, the beautiful, the ugly, the encouraging, the disparaging, the true, the untrue, all of it grows strangely dim. In the light of His glory and grace.

Let us turn out of ourselves and turn our eyes truly, fully, upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith and of our very lives.