The Runaway: Not My Identity

The story of the prodigal son (Luke 15: 11-32) always reminds me of when I ran away from home at age seventeen. I left in the middle of the night searching for love and acceptance. For once, I needed to just be me, and I had no idea who that was. When I stepped out the front door, I was walking out from underneath the umbrella of God and everything it included. As far as I was concerned, life as a PK (Pastor’s kid) was nothing but horrible, unrealistic expectations, and it was time for me to be me. I think the prodigal son in the Bible just wanted to try life outside of his family. Maybe he, too, was looking for his identity or wanting to change it somehow. I was breaking free from what I felt was bondage. But in reality, I left one bondage (because in some ways it really was) and stepped into another kind of bondage. If I had known the heart of my Heavenly Father, I would have run to Him instead.

I walked across town and moved in with a boy I had just started dating. I felt safe with him. He would become my first husband. We had a decent life for a couple of years. He had a good-paying job at a carpet mill, and I was a manager at McDonald’s. It paid the bills, and we were able to live independently of our parents and God. Right after our second wedding anniversary, we found out we were pregnant. At six months along, the doctor told me I needed to stop working. She was worried about blood clots in my legs. She said I was risking the life of my baby and mine, too. This changed everything. In the few short months before our baby girl was born, I watched my car get repossessed, and the food in the cupboards slowly disappear. Our utilities were shut off, and thanks to a state program turned back on, but only briefly. We were so financially in deficit, three months into being parents, we were facing homelessness. It was a Friday night, and I sat down with a can of green beans for dinner. We had no milk, bread, eggs, or meat. Just some canned goods. Though we were several months behind in rent, I looked forward to his paycheck to buy just a few groceries. A PB&J sounded wonderful. There were two feet of snow on the ground outside, and my husband did not come home. I was scared for him since he had an hour drive. I called family and friends, and no one seemed to know where he was, yet his closest friend and mother did not seem alarmed by his absence. Two more days passed. My brother stopped by, and even though I didn’t tell him how bad things were, he seemed to know. Maybe it was the fear all over my face. I was not only terrified at the new Mom thing, but now I was facing it alone without basic needs met. The following day, to my surprise, my parents arrived with a U-Haul truck to take my daughter and me to Missouri, where they lived. I didn’t want to go. This was the opposite of the path I wanted to take. Life with them meant life with God, and I couldn’t take that kind of pressure. I wanted to live free, but I didn’t have a choice because the person I depended on had abandoned us. If I stayed, my baby girl and I would be homeless in just a few days; that was an alarming fact. Ironically, looking back now, I can see the God I was running away from was saving me. I don't think it was a coincidence that my brother was passing through town and stopped to visit. The Holy Spirit was leading him in a rescue mission.

I didn’t know when I left home at seventeen that I was looking for my identity. I didn’t know the real God of the Bible, but some other made-up version where He demanded more and more out of me. I thought I had to earn my salvation, and no matter how hard I tried, it was never good enough. I didn’t know He just wanted me to be His daughter and to be happy. It would take me years to learn that true freedom comes from God and that He is good. God is so loving that He doesn’t care if I make mistakes or fail sometimes (Psalm 145:14). He still loves me. I didn’t have to keep running from Him to find peace and freedom either; He could be my peace if I let Him (Philippians 4:6-7). And I know now that there is no true freedom outside of Christ. That is a profoundly true statement that gets twisted and marred by the devil each day. The enemy promises freedom, but you get chains instead. 

I wish I had known all those years ago that my parents weren’t given the responsibility of my identity. The groups, friends, and even my husband couldn’t tell me who I was. Only God can do that. I was always trying to figure out who I was and to fill the empty void I felt inside. I thought I had to run away from my identity as “the preacher’s daughter” and all that entailed, but God said, “No, I say who you are, and you are a loved and wanted child of Mine. Yes, you are a preacher’s daughter, but that is not what you were made for. You were made for me so that I can love you.” Wow, what an amazing thing.

Verses About Your Identity in Christ:

https://www.lcbcchurch.com/articles/top-31-verses-about-identity-in-christ

Article: The Invisible Faces of Runaway and Homeless Youth:
https://www.ojp.gov/archives/ojp-blogs/2019/invisible-faces-runaway-and-homeless-youth

On a single night in 2018, 4,093 children under the age of 18 were counted as homeless because they were not part of a family with children or not under the care of a parent or guardian. The National Runaway Safeline reports that between 1.6 million and 2.8 million youth run away each year.

Statistics from “Child Crime Prevention and Safety Center”:
https://childsafety.losangelescriminallawyer.pro/runaways.html#:~:text=Runaway%20Statistics&text=Females%20make%20up%2075%20percent,abuse%20occurred%20in%20the%20home.

Of more than 20,500 missing children reports, 90 percent of those are what are considered “endangered runaways.” 47 percent of minors who run away from home report a conflict between themselves and their parent or guardian. Half of all runaway minors report that their parents told them to leave or knew they were running away and did not care. Females make up 75 percent of minors who run away from home.