My GRANDson is 4 years old. He has a happy heart most of the time. Lately, however, he’s been struggling. If things don’t go his way, he loses it. My son says, “he seems so fragile”.

I identify. My identity is sometimes fragile too.

Earlier this year, I was praying with some good friends. During the prayer time I learned some things I hadn’t known … some things I thought I really should have known. It frustrated me, but I was cool. My friends weren’t aware of my frustration.

Later that day I was asking my husband about those things. After all, in this case, I felt he probably knew what I didn’t and he should have told me. With Bill, I didn’t hold back! My fragile identity was painfully obvious.

“What got into you?”, he asked. To be honest, I didn’t know. What I did know is that my poor husband was taking the brunt of my insecurities, my fragile identity.

As I pondered his question the next morning, some light began to dawn. I didn’t know the answer to the question, but it was obvious to me that I’m good at hiding, putting on a costume, not letting my friends see the real me. After all, I want them to think I’m more together than I really am. I’m a bit more mature than my 4 year old GRANDson who is able to be honest no matter who he is with.

But when I was in the presence of someone who was safe, I no longer hid, the costume came off and I allowed the real me to surface. I became like my GRANDson. Someone safe is someone I know loves me.

“What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at it – we’re called the children of God! That’s who we really are. …” I John 3:1