“Who am I?  They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a Squire from his country house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing
My throat, yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighbourliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.

Who am I? This or the Other?
Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptible, woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me like a beaten army
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine,
Whoever I am, Thou Knowest, O God, I am thine.”

Dietriech Bonhoeffer (4/02/1906 – 9/04/1945)

I recently came upon a recording of this poem, read by the actor Tom Hanks, in recognition of the 80th anniversary of the death of its author, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, under the German Nazi regime, just months before the end of the war. The poem was written while Bonhoeffer was in prison from April 1943 until the end of his life, some two years later. (This link might help you find that recording for yourself https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBATNRYIBdc)

Now I have known nothing like the crushing grief, oppression and disempowerment which Bonhoeffer experienced in those last months and years – it is impossible to fully imagine such suffering. But perhaps, like me, you can identify with the profound sense of disconnect which he describes – between his public and private persona – and also the deep and agonised questioning of his true identity.. who am I, if I can behave so very differently at one moment from the next? 

I believe that God is the source of our identity – it is in His naming, shaping, saving and transforming that we find significance and value, and meaning. Before anything else, I am the beloved daughter of the Almighty, redeemed by my Saviour’s blood and therefore eternally precious and secure. With these truths, I am armoured against the assault of the enemy of my soul who would drive me down endless arid roads in quest of ‘my identity’, and I believe that without these truths, humanity is astray without a guide, vulnerable to every fad, philosophy, and addiction. Only my security as one who is known and kept by God, can keep me from losing everything in the attempt to find myself! I don’t need to prove anything, but rather receive the abundant grace of my loving Father and rest in his gift.

And that is why these words of a man of deep faith, profound intelligence and eloquence are so moving to me. In the end, after all is stripped from me – health, freedom, family, achievements – who am I? What is true about me; where can I find rest, when tossed between apparently contradictory behaviours and opinions? 

I find rest in God alone. I rest not in who I am, but in who He is – the Almighty who loved me enough to send his Son to die for me. No matter how deeply conflicted I am, this remains true – Christ died for me, and his death and resurrection are sufficient to bring me home to glory.

Can you sense the relief? Does the weight not lift from your heart? We don’t need to answer all the questions, don’t need to have it all understood and neatly organised – we are beloved, and our path lies in sovereign hands which cannot fail to deliver us to glory.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust. (Ps 91.1&2)

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I put my hope. My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning… O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. (Ps 130.5-7)

(*photo of “Joan”, sculpted by Benno Schotz, 1891-1984, in the Perth Art Gallery)