The other day, my 5-year-old, close to tears, came to me to tattle: “Mom, Jane called me a baby!” I looked at her quivering lower lip and took a deep breath, trying fight my annoyance. I wanted to say, Your sister is 3...she actually IS a baby, so why do you care what she thinks? I mean seriously, she licks the bottom of her shoes sometimes. Why are you crying about something so dumb? Thankfully, what came out of my mouth was a bit gentler and much more helpful. “Well babe, a lot of people say things about us that aren’t true.” She blinked at me, not understanding.

“People might call us babies, or mean, or dumb, or ugly, or not cool, or whatever, but that doesn’t mean those things are true. And we don’t have to believe those things. Your sister doesn’t get to tell you who you are. There’s only one person who gets to say who you are.” I paused dramatically, realizing this was an Important Developmental Moment, the foundation for a concept we’d be returning to often.

Her eyes lit up with the right answer as she pointed her index finger at her own chest and said with certainty, “Me!” I’ll admit, I was pretty proud of this answer. Part of me was thinking Yes! You go girl! Be whoever you want to be! Be you! Be confident, you independent woman, you! But then something more powerful than feminism edged out thoughts of self-empowerment, and the Holy Spirit pointed me to the truth.

“Nope,” I replied. “The only one who gets to tell you who you are is God.”

Slow understanding spread across her face. I continued. “He made you. Before I even knew you existed, he was putting you together, loving you, and knowing exactly what you’d be like. It doesn’t matter what other people say you are; it matters who God says you are, and He says you are loved, you are His child, and His Holy Spirit gives you power and makes you brave.”

In the middle of a mundane moment in parenting, the Holy Spirit led me in teaching my daughter a foundational lesson about her identity. This is an idea that we will revisit when her grade school friends leave her out, or when she doesn’t get the award, or when boys become a part of the conversation. But the wonderful and humbling thing about this beautiful truth is that it isn’t just true for her.

I am constantly bombarded by expectations about what kind of mom I should be, what kind of wife I should be, how I could be a better teacher, friend, daughter, woman, citizen, and human. I read articles and hear people talk about the best way to live, but sometimes those opinions do not match my life and leave me questioning what I’m doing and who I am. In those moments, the Holy Spirit graciously reminds me of the same truth he taught my 5-year-old:

People say a lot of things about me that aren’t true, but I don’t have to believe them. The only one who gets to say who I am is God.

He says I am loved (Romans 5:8).

I am known (Psalm 139:15-16).

I am covered with the blood of Christ (Ephesians 2:13).

I have been adopted as His child (1 John 3:1).

I am empowered by the Holy Spirit, the same spirit that raised Christ from the dead (Ephesians 1:18-21).

Thank God that other people can’t define me and that God doesn’t leave me to figure it out for myself.