Two Questions
Would you take just a second and think about something? Take a second and think about the following two questions:
- “What do you want to be?”
- “What do you do?”
When would you ask these questions? I bet I can answer that for you.
The first question (“What do you want to be?“) is one that you would pose to a young child. It would be asked with the qualifier of “when you grow up.” I’ve asked kids this question many, many times, and the answers are always entertaining. Children want to be things like firemen, doctors, cowboys, baseball stars, movie stars, even school bus drivers. Some even want to become the mythical, like super heroes, monsters, or unicorns.
When you ask a child what he wants to be when he grows up, all you are doing is opening up before him a world of possibility – the sky’s the limit. The question doesn’t limit him in any way. On the contrary, it affirms his potential to be anything he wants to be.
The second question (What do you do?) is one that you would likely ask an adult. Think about it, you wouldn’t ask a 10-year-old, “What do you do for a living?” Obviously, the child is just a student and preparing for the riggers of future employment as a “safe space” attorney, not an actual lawyer, or doctor, or super model.
But when you pose this question to an adult, instead of offering him the opportunity to dream big and affirming his ambitions, you cause him to face the here and now, the cold reality, the fact of what his childhood dreams have turned into. Unfortunately, affirming and praising one’s potential is a whole lot easier than affirming one’s present state.
When you ask a child what she wants to be when she grows up there is the possibility her dreams will come true. When you ask someone what he does for a living the answer is what he is doing, not what he is dreaming, and what he is doing might be all he ever does.
Is Doing Being?
I have always struggled with the temptation to find my identity in what I “do.” In other words, I’ve never wanted to just do things, I’ve always prided myself in being things. Do any of you feel the same way?
I have been a pest control technician, an industrial engine builder, a Sunday School teacher, an adjunct professor, a Level I Nuclear Non-Destructive Testing (NDT) Technician, a sales manager, an eyeglass maker, an insurance salesman, a preacher, a pastor, a chaplain, a song writer, and an author. I’ve been a school bus driver. Right now I am an agent with Aflac, along with being a bi-vocational pastor.
No, I wasn’t a pilot. I just flew a lot when I worked in the nuclear field. (circa 1989)
I have always liked name tags, badges, lapel pins, and titles…because they give me identity.
But in reality, honestly, none of those things are really me, are they? They are only what I do. If I were to quit pastoring or driving a bus, would I cease to exist? Of course not! Even if you were to take away my freedom, I might be labeled an “inmate” or “refugee,” but not even those labels would be me, only the condition of my existence.
Yet, I still find my deepest self wanting to be identified with something, to be known for something, to have a title, to find worth in what I have done or am doing.
I do what I do, but I am what I am. On the other hand, I do what I do because I am what I am. So, what am I to make of it?
What I Am
I am created in the image of Almighty God, so I am intrinsically valuable – my value is based on Who made me.
I am loved beyond measure, first by my Lord Jesus Christ (because He loved us first), then by my family.
I am a child of God, not by my own works, but by the grace of God through faith in Jesus Christ – that is my identity.
I am a soldier in the army of God, for He called me to serve in battle against the spiritual forces of wickedness in high places.
I am a Christian, because I’ve been given that title as one who identifies with Christ.
I am priceless, because of the price that was paid on the Cross to redeem me.
What I do doesn’t make me a child of God, a saint, or anything of the sort, but what Jesus did for me, on my behalf, thereby crediting those works to my account, is what makes me those things.
And all the things I do – whether it be drive a bus, be a husband, preach a sermon, mow a yard, or be a dad – I do for the sake of the one Who makes me His own, and I do it in His strength.
So, ask me what I do, and no matter what I end up telling you, I will no longer stress over the answer, for what I do is not what I am…
I do what I do because I am what I am, because of the Great I AM; my identity is found in Him.
