Every time I open up Facebook I’m asked to do something I don’t seem to be able to do. In an attempt to update my profile, Facebook asks me to: Describe Who You Are.
You may think that would be easy to do, but then maybe you haven’t lived over six decades like I have. What is it, exactly, that they expect me to say to describe me? What are they hoping I’ll include? What categories of knowledge or personality traits? What accomplishments or failures? What labels that I’ve collected over the years, like so many stickers on an old suitcase, would satisfy this request?
I could have answered it easily in elementary school. I might have written, “I’m a little girl in Tennessee who loves to play barefooted in the summer and to ride her horse, Dolly, bareback.”
I could have answered it in junior high: “I’m a basketball player and I raise rabbits and show them at the state fair.”
I could have answered it in senior high: “I’m a cheerleader and editor of the yearbook. I like boys!”
Then it gets more complicated. In my twenties I could have written: “I’m a college graduate with degrees in journalism and English education, and the stay-at-home mother of two little boys. I’m an Army wife.”
In my thirties it would change to: “I’m a divorced mother of two boys and fulltime writer for a large corporation.”
In my forties I could have reported: “I’m a happily remarried mother of two, stepmother of two, and corporate manager spending long hours at the office.”
In my fifties I might have said: “I’m a freelance writer and published author and my grandkids call me Grancy.”
But what about now? How do I succinctly describe who I am in my sixties, and who at Facebook cares anyway? Are they going to write me back and say: “That doesn’t sound like you.” Or maybe, “Be more specific please.” I doubt it.
And so I leave the request unsatisfied still. If I wrote anything to sum up my life to this point, it would have to be: “I am a redeemed child of God. A daughter of the most high King. I am blessed beyond belief, and I am eternally grateful.” I guess I can live with that description today and forever—whether I share it with Facebook or not.
What about you? Have you fulfilled this Facebook request? How did you describe YOU?
Jimmie says
That was beautiful, Nancy…although I didn’t know you played basketball or were a cheerleader!!
Best thing I could add is a wonderful friend!
jimmie
Nancy says
Same to you, Jimmie!
Jim says
You are also my wonderful loving wife.
Nancy says
Thanks, dear. That’s the “happily remarried” part. 🙂
Bernice Herrold says
very interesting Nancy–we should all do that …Bernice
Nancy says
Thanks, Bernice.
Marylou Gonzalez says
Amen, and insightful. the seasons of life do change our identity here on earth, but in the eyes of Christ–that remains constant. Love it. Thank you
Nancy says
So good to hear from you! Yes, all that matters stays the same!
Elizabeth Van Liere says
I love the last paragraph (not the lonely sentence). It sums up a life in Christ so well. I feel exactly the same. ….
I might add something that has been constant in my life: chocolate. It’s my mother’s fault. Whenever I got an A on a paper or report card I would be rewarded with a graham cracker bottomed cookie, with a chocolate coating over a mound of gooey marshmallow. I made sure I got lots of As.
Nancy says
That’s great, Betty! I love chocolate, too. But I don’t have such a good excuse!
Lea Ann Brookens says
Yes indeed, that last description is the one that really matters for all eternity!! Did you keep your favorite cheerleader sweater like I did?? 🙂
Nancy says
Yes, and a little vest that we wore for basketball games that I’m sure I wouldn’t fit into now! Thanks, Lea Ann.
Marylin Warner says
You’re a hopeful survivor of all you’ve been along the way, Nancy, a source of understanding and encouragement, and a woman of faith.
Beyond that, Facebook is just yanking your chain, giving you homework and trying to get you more involved. 😉
You and Queenie are a stupendous duo! <3
Nancy says
Thanks, Marylin! She won “best of breed.” I learned a lot about “breeding” from the rabbits, too! 🙂
Beth Lueders says
Nancy, in so many ways you are indescribable! 🙂
You are secure in who God says you are…and you are brilliant, beautiful, fun, funny, personable, encouraging,
insightful, uplifting…I can fill up this space if you like. 🙂
Nancy says
You’re too sweet! I just may use your description on Facebook! Thanks, Beth.
Cindy Penchoff says
Sometimes we tend to forget that current friends had a past. I must admit that I giggled in my heart thinking of you playing barefoot and riding a horse, playing basketball, or cheerleading. I smiled as I thought of that little girl and wished I had known her then. I believe we would have been fast friends.
Thanks for the sweet memories of our own lives. I tend to think I’d summarize my life currently as boring to most but I appreciate the reminder that I too am a redeemed child of God and daughter of the most high King. I needed to be reminded today. Thank you my sweet friend!! Cindy
Nancy says
You are so welcome, Cindy! And yes, I would have gladly pulled you up behind me on Dolly! 🙂
Charlie Fusco says
The thing that matters most in the end is being a child of God. That is the best description a person could possibly have… at any age. Blessings to one of the most radiant!
Nancy says
Totally agree, Charlie. Keeps it all in perspective. Thanks.
Rolle Walker says
Nancy, you may have condensed in a few statements a book in you that is yet to be written. Maybe
the title might be “A Daughter of The Most High King.” It would last longer than a Facebook update,
don’t ya think? I appreciate all the unstated things in your post which each reader can fill in for themselves.
It certainly provoked some thoughts for me. Thank you, Nancy.
Nancy says
Thank you, Rolle! Not sure about another book but I’ve learned never to say never!
Kathy Fitz says
As I reflect on my life (having just celebrated the BIG #70) I find the most important thing is to Whom I belong and my gratitude to God for His amazing faithfulness. My cup overflows with BLESSINGS, large and small. Thanks for allowing me to walk down memory lane as I walked with you. Thanks for walking with me now, Friend.
Nancy says
And thank you for your sweet thoughts and for walking with ME. Hurry home.