I am not a "smokin' hot wife" of a famous pastor.
I have been married to the same, wonderful man for 26 years who tells me I'm beautiful when I take my bike helmet off, and have "helmet head."
I am not a super mom managing homeschooling, organic gardening, weaving my own cloth, and finding a way to teach the Westminster Catechism in the middle of my canning and preserving.
I have three healthy children who all wanted to come home for the weekend to celebrate a birthday.
I am not a seminary graduate who speaks to audiences of thousands at conferences and to whom people turn with their theological questions.
I am privileged to teach a small group of women each week, and learn more from them than they are likely learning from me.
I am not a professional writer or journalist.
I have notebooks filled with my own words that may mean something to a child or a grandchild someday.
I am not a scholar.
I am a life-long learner, and I'm fortunate to have the predicament of not enough book shelf space.
I am not well-known by the masses.
I am known by the Creator of the universe, and bought by the blood of Christ; adopted, redeemed, set apart, and on the way to glory. I have been brought into the light from the darkness.
I am a stranger and an alien.
And that should be where I find my identity.
Some boast in fame and fortune, but I will boast in the name of the Lord.