That's Not Who I Am

There is something painful about hearing people describe you in ways that do not reflect your heart.

I’ve been misunderstood.

I’ve disappointed people.

I’ve fallen short of expectations.

I’ve been the subject of conversations I wasn’t invited into.

And I’m sure there are stories about me that were written without ever asking for my truth.

The truth is, some of what people say may be connected to something I did or did not do.

Maybe I didn’t return the call.

Maybe I didn’t respond to the text.

Maybe I didn’t send the email.

Maybe I didn’t have the capacity to show up the way someone expected me to.

Maybe I disappointed someone.

But there is a difference between what I did and who I am.

That is the lesson this season keeps bringing back to me.

I may have done what you said.

But I am not who you say I am.

Lately, life has forced me into a place where I have had to confront things I cannot control.

There have been moments when I sat in the borrowed vehicle and cried.

Moments when I stood in the grocery store holding up the line trying to figure things out.

Moments when the weight of life and responsibility felt heavier than the strength I had available that day.

Moments when I questioned myself.

Moments when I wondered if I was failing.

People often see the outcome.

They rarely see the struggle.

They see the missed call.

They don’t see the battle.

They see the delayed response.

They don’t see the tears.

They see what wasn’t done for them.

They don’t see what you’re carrying.

What this season has taught me is that capacity and character are not the same thing.

Sometimes people mistake a lack of capacity for a lack of care.

Sometimes life stretches you beyond what you thought you could bear.

Sometimes you simply do not have enough of yourself left to give away.

That does not mean your heart has changed.

It does not mean your values have changed.

It does not mean your character has changed.

It means you are human.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that some people love the version of you that was able to help and solve problems for them.

The version that always showed up.

The version that always had the answer.

The version that always carried the weight.

But when life requires you to slow down, heal, regroup, or simply survive, some people struggle to understand that version of you.

And if you’re not careful, you’ll start believing their interpretation of you more than God’s truth about you.

Recently, I felt God whisper something to me that I have carried ever since.

“I am your help.”

Simple words.

Powerful words.

Words that reminded me that I am not carrying this season alone.

I don’t know exactly what that help will look like.

I don’t know where it will come from.

I don’t know how God intends to provide it.

But I know what He said.

And I know what I’ve learned.

Help does not always arrive the way we expect it.

Sometimes help is provision.

Sometimes help is people.

Sometimes help is wisdom.

Sometimes help is strength for one more day.

Whatever form it takes, I have decided to trust the promise before I see the proof.

This season is teaching me that my worth is not tied to my usefulness.

My value is not determined by my productivity.

My identity is not defined by someone’s disappointment.

And my purpose is not canceled because I am walking through a difficult chapter.

Maybe that’s the wisdom hidden beneath this season.

Maybe the question isn’t why people misunderstand us.

Maybe the question is whether we can still trust who God says we are when others don’t.

Because sometimes the greatest battle is not proving yourself to people.

It’s refusing to forget yourself while you’re healing.

And perhaps that is where the real work begins.

To Everything There Is a Season

It's Your Season Go and Live!

-Dr. Tasheka L. Green