006 - Blackfoot Grounding

November 2004

In recent years my interest in family history and genealogy has grown, mostly from a desire to give my children a clearer picture of where we come from. My dad was very proud of his heritage. It shaped how he saw himself, and because of that, I began digging into records a year or two before he passed away. I didn’t expect much more than names and dates. But what I found surprised me.

For all his pride in being German, the family line is quite mixed. His father's family lived in the border region of France, and some members even took on french variations of their surname. His mother was Irish, and I later discovered through my uncle that she was also part Blackfoot.

In the space of months, my view of Dad shifted to include French, Irish, and Native American. A rather significant change in identity.

Looking back through these journals, both private and published, I see a thread running through them: identity. I’ve written often of feeling disoriented, of “not myself.” But I’ve never examined those feelings against Scripture. That seems worth doing.

The Nature of Identity

For me as a believer, identity is dynamic—constantly in motion. Through sanctification, believers are being transformed into the likeness of Christ. When we forget that change is supposed to happen—or when it happens suddenly and dramatically—we can lose our bearings.

From what I see in Scripture, God reshapes our identity in two ways:

1. Substance (who we are)

2. Reflection (who we think we are)

Changed in Reflection

Sometimes God confronts us with a truer picture of ourselves. We think we’ve got it all together—but He shows us what’s lacking.

Take the young man in Matthew 19 who asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Confident, he replied, “All these I have kept.” But Jesus exposed the truth: “Sell all you have and give to the poor.” The man walked away sad. The reflection he had of himself was wrong and Jesus corrected it.

Peter’s story is full of these moments too. One reflection after another adjusted by Christ.

And in much the same way, God works in us—showing us what’s missing by holding up a clearer mirror.

Changed in Substance

Other times, God reshapes the very fabric of who we are. Scripture is filled with such stories. We see it in Jacob, Moses, David, Paul. Sometimes change comes slowly, with wisdom gained through age. But sometimes it comes suddenly, through tragedy or trial. David was not the same man after the fallout of his sin with Bathsheba just as Paul was never the same after the Damascus road.

Our adversary may intend these events for harm. But God, in His mercy, works them for good. Beauty out of ashes. Life out of death. That’s where I’ve found myself. Losing Dad didn’t just take him from me. It took me from me. I mourned not only his absence, but also the parts of myself that only existed because he did.

And though I still resist, God has been reshaping even that loss into something new.

Resisting Change

Sanctification is not automatic. We resist it—often without realizing. I see at least four ways:

1. Refusing to Change. We cling to old identities we’d rather keep. Paul himself described this war: “For in my inner being I delight in God’s law, but I see another law at work… what a wretched man I am!” (Romans 7).

   
   

2. Not Knowing Christ. We can’t become like someone we don’t study. Christians who never move past “milk” (Hebrews 5) may behave morality, but without knowledge and motive rooted in Christ, they are indistinguishable from moralists.

   
   

3. Misunderstanding the Process. Sanctification is a mutual work. God gives new life, but calls us to “be holy as I am holy.” It will not always be easy. Expecting Him to do it all—or expecting it to be painless—leaves us vulnerable when trials come.

   
   

4. Basing Identity on Pride. Pride blinds us. It tempts us to cling to old reflections or to think we’re better than others. It distorts both who we were and who we’re becoming.

My Substance and Reflection

So… has God changed my substance or my reflection?

I think both.

A brother in Christ said to me shortly after Dad died, “There goes a great man, and there goes a big chunk of Germo too.” He was right. Some of me went with Dad. But some of what went needed to go. God is stripping away things I couldn’t see because pride distorted my reflection.

At the same time, He’s adding new things. Every so often I catch myself recognizing them—almost laughing, “Oh, this is new.”

Grounded in Sanctification

I see now that my disorientation comes (in part) from misunderstanding sanctification. I expected God to work only gradually and on my timeline. But He often works in ways that shock us. He didn’t cause my dad’s death—death is the final consequence of sin. But He is using even that tragedy to create life in me.

When Dad died, I wrote that I didn’t know who I was going to become. That’s still true. But I’m beginning to find out. And I’m encouraged by what I see—not because it’s easy, but because I know it’s sanctification at work.

My heart is still broken. It may remain so until I am at home with The Father. But if a broken heart means deeper dependence on God—so be it.

Through hidden tears, I count this evidence of a living faith—one that will carry me beyond that great divide.