We are constantly trying to find ourselves Look for pieces of who we are in other people

Find reflections in broken mirrors hoping they will give us wholeperceptions

Trace back through our pasts and see if we left ourselves there

We are constantly trying to find ourselves

In places we never were to begin with

In the names we’ve been called the busyness we drown ourselves in

Our identity is not given to us by people

Who are still searching for who they are

Our identity is not found in a world that attempts to shatter anyfoundation

of truly knowing ourselves

Our identity, inherited by a grace ordained to us

by the one who molded each of our frames in his hands

Our identity is not solely in what we do

Or what we say, it is engrained in who we are

And who we are becoming

And who we are is his

An Identity instilled upon us before this world could touch us

Who we are is worthy, precious, valued, and loved unconditionally

Orchestrated with a certain grace that lingers in your namesake

You are so much more than this world will tell you

We are constantly trying to find ourselves in all the wrong places

Find our identity in hands that did not create us

Aimlessly searching to find ourselves

while he stands in the center of our whirlwind journey

with a frame held up to his face and waits

just waits

Until we stop,

See his reflection

and notice our own painted there tooafterlight