I am in Christ.

This morning I was contemplating the difference between what I know about myself and my feelings, and who I know I am in Christ.  This poem, written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer while in prison,  came to my mind.  It was comforting because it reminded me that emotions are not necessarily representative of truth.  Yes, Bonhoeffer was restless, melancholic,struggling, angry.  (And no wonder!)  Those feelings mocked him.  But, he affirmed that, however he might feel, he knew he trusted in, and belonged to God.  He went on to finish well.  His poem:

Who Am I?
Who am I? They often tell me,

I come out of my cell

Calmly, cheerfully, resolutely,

Like a lord from his palace.
Who am I? They often tell me,

I used to speak to my warders

Freely and friendly and clearly,

As though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me,

I carried the days of misfortune

Equably, smilingly, proudly,

like one who is used to winning.
Am I really then what others say of me?

Or am I only what I know of myself?

Restless, melancholic, and ill, like a caged bird,

Struggling for breath, as if hands clasped my throat,

Hungry for colors, for flowers, for the songs of birds,

Thirsty for friendly words and human kindness,

Shaking with anger at fate and at the smallest sickness,

Trembling for friends at an infinite distance,

Tired and empty at praying, at thinking, at doing,

Drained and ready to say goodbye to it all.
Who am I? This or the other?

Am I one person today and another tomorrow?

Am I both at once? In front of others, a hypocrite,

And to myself a contemptible, fretting weakling?

Or is something still in me like a battered army,

running in disorder from a victory already achieved?

Who am I? These lonely questions mock me.

Whoever I am, You know me, I am yours, O God.

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