The Labels that Define Us
A reflection on contentment
Hello, my fellow reading friends,
Today finds me penning a message for you from a lovely coffee shop on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I’m currently tucked into a cozy corner watching a stream of passersby. Several are walking their canine buddies, a few are escorting children clad in bulky coats, but most are likely on their morning commute.
I’ll be joining them in a few moments as I make my way downtown to the final sessions of my MFA residency. I’ve had six lovely days in the beautiful city of New York, not only partaking in my residency, but also spending time with my son. I’m deeply thankful.
Later today, I will fly back to Idaho, and while I can’t wait to see the family I left behind, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to a tinge of sadness.
I first encountered NYC when I graduated from high school early and moved to the city at the impressionable age of seventeen. Impressionableness aside, and cliché or not, the moment my feet touched the streets of Manhattan, it felt like coming home. Living in this city for a good portion of my twenties was deeply formative. I even met Christ here, and to this day it feels like my city.
Suffice it to say, I still identify as a New Yorker.
My husband… not so much.
And really, for so many good and logical reasons, living in New York wouldn’t have been the best fit for our family. So, though I define myself as a New Yorker at heart, I’ve had to sacrifice something that, in a palpable way, still feels integral to who I am.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the labels that define us the past few weeks. One, because it’s tied to this month’s book recommendation (which I’ll come back to in a moment), but also because my visits to this city always bring up this odd dichotomy—this idea that on the soul level I “wear” the definition of a New Yorker and yet it simply isn’t part of my day-to-day life anymore.
What does one do with this conundrum… when a designation feels so integral to who a person is, but has become, largely, an unfulfilled part of their identity? Weightier and more consequential labels such as “parent” or “spouse” immediately come to mind.
For example, some find the transition to empty nesting quite traumatic. After nearly two decades of daily investment, a parental role shifts dramatically when kids leave home. One is still a “parent” but the moment-to-moment expression of it feels diminished.
Or, in a much more traumatic example, what happens when someone loses a child? Is a mom less of a “mother” because her child is no longer alive?
Or what about when a spouse of ten, thirty, or fifty years passes? Does the label of “husband” or “wife” simply vanish because the spouse is no longer at their side?
Husband, wife.
Mother or father.
Daughter. Son.
Sister, boss, employee, grandchild.
We all wear labels that define us—and yet, those defining identities don’t always find their full expression.
So, in the less weighty example, how does a girl who defines herself as a New Yorker deal with the reality that she will likely never live in her city again?
Well, first, she doesn’t pretend it isn’t of consequence. Or that the longing doesn’t exist. Instead, she wrestles honestly and takes it to the One who understands and acknowledges the reality of her struggle.
Then she lets that same One offer her a bigger picture.
And ultimately, she finds contentment in the one defining label that cannot be shaken.
She finds her identity in Christ.
It may not erase all the difficulty, but it does put all else into perspective.
November Book Recommendation
Nearly Beloved by Kendra Broekhuis
Friends, I’m truly thrilled to introduce you to this month’s book recommendation!
I happened to pick this novel up at the precise time I came down with a cold last month. Being homebound with illness meant swiping several things from my schedule. It was fortuitous timing as I simply couldn’t put this book down!
A bit about the premise:
“In this captivating novel, a DNA test turns a woman’s world upside-down. Will searching for answers give her the peace she craves—or deepen the fractures in her life?
Dylan Turner works hard to keep her life predictable, though she would never call it that—she loves her routine, two guinea pigs, and minding her own business. But when her dad dies and the DNA test results in her inbox say he’s not her biological father, the life she’s so carefully built starts to unravel.
Craving answers and getting none from her mother, Dylan follows a sparse trail of clues across the country to where she grew up. It’s a journey full of unexpected encounters, including a friendly co-worker and another familiar face from her past—one she isn’t sure is a solace or an obstacle. As Dylan digs deeper into her family’s secrets, she can’t help but wonder, Is a comfortable lie better than the pain of knowing the truth?”
As mentioned in my earlier reflection, this book wrestles deeply with similar issues of identity. It’s a beautiful and compelling story, and I hope you find your way to it.
November Giveaways
Nearly Beloved is also this month’s book giveaway! As always, email subscribers can simply respond to this email. Please type BELOVED in the subject line to be entered. New subscribers in the month of November will also be automatically entered.
Last month’s winner of The Stories We Carry is J. Lindy! Please look for an email in your inbox, and thank you for reading Letters and Literature!
Circling back to New York…
It really was a wonderful trip to the Big Apple! How about a few photo highlights?
Dear friends, that concludes this month’s letter! Until we meet again in December, I hope this month finds you in a season of gratitude, and yes, contentment.
Tiffany
You described well a variety of situations and life changes in which we need to “dig into” our identity in Christ. John and I are currently in the “empty nest” stage l, which we often think of as “the extended nest” as we get to meet new people and experience new things through our sons. 😊
NYC is one of my favorite cities! So enjoyed living vicariously through all the photos. And… What we give up. What we keep…always secure in Christ. Love these musings!