I have a low-key confession to make. When I meet someone for the very first time, say on an airplane or at a party, I tend to dread the inevitable question: “So, what do you do?” Really, I dread this question so much because my current answer is layered and complicated—anything but straightforward. And I feel this pressure to fill in the blank succinctly. If I could answer with a streamlined title like, “I’m an administrative assistant” or “I’m an accountant” or “I’m an actress”—even though there would certainly be more to me than just that title—the title would still be something I’d find helpful.

Instead, my answer currently sounds like this: “Well, let’s see…I’m a student in a spiritual direction certification program, so I meet with a handful of clients each month and work on my school assignments. And I am the host of a short-form solo podcast. I write regularly. I am a speaker and teacher for different retreats and conferences. And I serve in a couple different ways at the church where my husband is a pastor. And right now I am a substitute teacher in my local school district to help make ends meet as often as I can…”

See? Complicated. Usually, depending on the person and the context, I’ll choose one, maybe two titles off that list, just to keep it as simple as possible, but having so much to choose from as I seek to fill in that blank can be difficult.

It’s funny because, even though it’s a question I clearly struggle to answer in this particular season of my life, it’s also a question I find I often ask. When it comes to meeting new people, that question is almost second-nature for so many of us. There are a number of reasons for this, one of which is probably genuine curiosity and wanting to learn more about a person. After all, you can learn a lot about someone by seeing how they spend their time. But at its core, I wonder if we so readily ask it because we have been somewhat conditioned to believe that who we are is seemingly synonymous with what we do.

And one of the things I’m learning is that those two things—who we are and what we do—are certainly connected, but they are not the same. It’s a distinction we often overlook, but I think it’s a distinction that matters, particularly as people of faith.

I’ve talked about this before {I think of reminder 43: Nothing to Prove and reminder 57: You Are Not A Machine} and many other people have talked about it, too. It’s not new by any means. But it’s still important. And recently, I’ve been thinking about this idea in the context of a scripture passage that might be familiar.

I’ve referenced it before, and I’d like to reference it once again. Stick with me.

In Exodus 3, we read of Moses’ first encounter with God in the burning bush. God is introduced to Moses as “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” but after God outlines all Moses is being called to do, the name God has offered doesn’t seem to be enough for Moses anymore. Moses wants more. Maybe anticipating the need for a more impressive resume or list of accomplishments, Moses asks God what he should tell the Israelites about the One who sent him. It’s almost a plea for additional credibility, hoping to showcase what God can do rather than settling for who God says God is.

Now, I don’t know this for sure, but I wonder if this further inquiry might have made sense to Moses. After all, he’d spent much of his life up until this point living as an Egyptian. And the Egyptian gods he was probably familiar with were, generally speaking, each associated with something they could do or produce. Take, for instance, Osiris, who was the Egyptian god of the underworld, but also the god in charge of agricultural fertility. Or, the god Re, who oversaw the setting and rising of the sun. Or, Horus, who was associated with war and hunting. It seems each god was valued by the Egyptian people because of what they could do or accomplish for them.

And so, again, I wonder if this understanding influenced Moses’ follow up question in Exodus 3:13. Moses asks God, …“If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?”

It’s as if the “name” Moses was asking for needed to include more details about what God could do—as if God’s identity depended on God’s capability.

God’s answer? In verse 14, we read, “God said to Moses, ‘I am who I am.’ He said further, ‘Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’”

God doesn’t say, “This is what I can do.” Even though God could have said, “I can do it all.” God doesn’t offer an impressive title alluding to a long list of accomplishments, even though the name God originally offered—the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—would have been a callback to all God had done. Instead, God moves beyond all that and says, “This is who I AM. My very being—I AM—is what matters most.” God says, I AM…full stop. Because for God, I AM is a complete sentence, not a fill-in-the-blank.

And for us, people created in the image of God, people created in the image of I AM, this is what matters most, too.

As we peel back the layers of who we are, we will find that we are not our titles, our resumes, our calendars, our accomplishments, or our to-do lists. We are not our past or our potential. Who we are—our very being, as is—is already welcome and beloved by God. Our truest identity is hidden and secure in Christ.

Now, this doesn’t mean there is nothing for us to do and no more room for us to grow. We will continue to grow as we participate in God’s good work in the world, and there are myriad ways to do so. But our doing and our becoming are meant to be grounded in our being. We begin with beloved. We start with who we are.

We remember the One in whom we live and move and have our very being. It is from that beloved place—our beloved identity—that we seek to live our lives. Before we say “I do” we remember “I AM.”

What might this look like? Well, it might begin with remembering that

The I AM within the one who never stops and always hustles, who feels like they need to earn their spot and prove their worth, is already beloved by God.

The I AM within the one who feels a little lost without an official title or pressing to-do list, is already beloved by God.

The I AM within the one who has a disability and might function in their own unique way, is already beloved by God.

The I AM within the one who didn’t get the job, didn’t make the cut, and doesn’t know how to do it all is already beloved by God.

The I AM within the overwhelmed, overcommitted, overextended, the one barely hanging by a thread, is already beloved by God.

Today, before you do, remember to be.

Be still and know that I AM God.

Be still and know that I AM.

Be still and know.

Be still.

Be.