"You have forgotten who you are, and so, have forgotten me." Okay, okay, so I know that's Mufasa and all but I think there's some validity to this statement. This was a divine voice for Simba in his culture of ancestor worship. There is real truth in this animated moment of spiritual awakening. How easy it was for him to forget who he was. On that note, I ask myself, who am I? Sure, I could tick off a list relatively easily; I am a mother, a wife, a minister, a nurse... Is this really who I am, a quantitative list of roles and obligations? How many of us define ourselves this way? Let me add Christian to this list; does that really change my definition? Is this not just another obligation, a set of rules to follow and standards to adhere to? No wonder I have forgotten who I am; perhaps I've never known.
Let me think about this for a minute.
I suppose the only way to know who I am is to imagine who I would be stripped of all these roles, these obligations. What does that leave? Loneliness, emptiness, me. Am I but a tragedy blanketed over in a thousand things to do?
Again, I need a moment for reflection.
I have wants, I have desires. I use my roles to fulfill them. That is why they are never satisfied. What are my core desires? To love, to be loved, to be accepted for who I am, who I am not. So, I suppose that answers the question I originally proposed. I am just a little girl, wanting to hear I'm lovely, I'm worthy. And yet, in my solitude I can hear a still small voice. "I see you, I hear you. I love you. You are lovely, you are perfect, you are worthy of my love." Outside of myself I find myself. This is who I am. This is spiritual awakening. I remember myself, and so, I remember God.
