In the New Year, thoughts turn very introspective. Our hearts settle into our chests (much as we ourselves settle into our warm homes) for some contemplation on self. With the general clamoring around me to begin a new year with aspirations and goals, I find myself often trying to define the person who I want to be. I want to be healthier, I want to be better educated, a good mother, a "creative person", a dedicated Bible student, an all-around "good person". From this created image of the "perfect Becky", I craft resolutions for myself to lose weight, drink more water, read a Bible verse a day, smile more and snap less. Every year I yearn to grow into the Person I could be, the Person whom I was meant to be, the Person God wants me to be.
But I'm kind of full of myself, really.
In order to work towards the best Becky, I assume I can define "the best Becky". I assume I know what she looks like, how she interacts with people, what she does to fill her days on Earth. I have defined her, using my own words, my own images of what a good person looks like. Healthy. Creative. Loving. Content. Faithful. (I could go on, I'm kind of on a roll....). I support my ideal with Biblical truth; God clearly wants us to seek Him. He quite obviously wants us to love one another. He even has an interest in my health, vested neatly in His unquestionable, all-encompassing love for me. So I dress my ideal Becky with the clothing found in the scriptures. I put on her the fruits of the spirit, and outfit her with the virtues that are outlined in God's giant love note to us, and I set her at the end of my path to be my goal; the Ultimate Becky.
But again. Kind of full of myself.
Because I don't have a clue who I can be. Who I will be. Who I even should be, really. I create a fictional character who looks, acts and talks the way I think a perfect, Godly woman should look, act and talk, and I seek her. Follow her. Set my footsteps on the path that leads to her door, so that I can knock on it, invite her out, parade her around for everyone to see. But in doing so, I ignore the truth that God already knows her. He has met the Becky of my future. He has loved up on her, held her, walked with her and gave her the strength to be who she has become. It's as if I'm trying to meet someone at a party, but am refusing to be introduced to her by her closest friend. Haven't I been told "seek first the Kingdom of God"? By seeking myself, even the best version of myself that I can possibly imagine, even the version of myself whose heart is solely focused on my Father, I am still indulging in a terrible kind of idolatry.
So, perhaps, I can start to get comfortable with the idea that I don't know who I can become. That even my most well-intended goals cannot define who I will become in Christ. Because only He can do that. Only He knows who I will be, and only He has the power to get me there. The nebulous vision I have of the perfect Becky is attractive, but that's only because I can't see the real, glorious picture of the Becky that I will be when I re-set my footsteps on the path that leads to Christ's door. And in His house, I have to believe that I will meet a Becky who will surpass this current Becky in all things, and with her I will walk continue to seek a Lord most powerful, good and loving.
