Purposd Reflections

Identified Stranger

An exploration of identity, survival, and remembering who God created you to be.

By Chestney Hibbler · 5-minute reflection · Identity · Healing · Becoming

A Purposd Original

"This poem is for anyone who has ever wondered if the life they were living was actually the one they were meant to live."

"It begins with the weight of what we were never supposed to carry — and ends with the grace of what God never wasted."

Maybe I was never supposed to doubt myself.

Shrink myself.

Hide myself.

Or silence myself.

Maybe I was never supposed to live afraid, Wondering if I was enough While carrying the weight Of what everybody else thought.

Maybe I was never supposed to be angry. Never supposed to be bitter. Never supposed to let hurt Become my filter.

Maybe I was never supposed to lose myself Trying to find myself In places where I couldn’t help myself.

Maybe I was never supposed to need a bottle, A pill, A high, Or a thrill Just to make it through another night.

Maybe I was never supposed to question my worth. Trade my peace. Give away pieces of myself Just to feel seen.

Maybe I was never supposed to seek approval From people Who couldn’t even approve of themselves.

Maybe I was never supposed to live in fear. Fear of failure. Fear of change. Fear of standing out. Fear of being different. Fear of hearing God And actually following Him.

Maybe I was never supposed to blend in. Settle down. Water myself down. Or make myself smaller To fit into rooms God never designed for me.

Maybe I was never supposed to be comfortable in sin. Comfortable in chaos. Comfortable in surviving When I was created for more than that.

Maybe I was never supposed to give up. On my purpose. On my dreams. On my healing. On myself.

Because according to God’s Word, I was created intentionally. Loved completely. Chosen specifically. Called personally.

So maybe…

I was never supposed to.

But then again…

Maybe that’s not the whole story.

Because if I never doubted, How would I learn to trust?

If I never fell, How would I know His hand could lift?

If I never wandered, How would I recognize His voice?

If I never broke, How would I know He restores?

If I never carried burdens, How would I know He gives rest?

If I never stood in darkness, How would I recognize His light?

If I never reached the end of myself, How would I discover The beginning of Him?

“Maybe God never intended for the wounds.
But maybe His plan was never to waste them.”

Maybe God never intended For the wounds. The fear. The shame. The pain. The addiction. The abuse. The chaos.

But maybe He knew They would come. And maybe His plan Was never to waste them.

Maybe every battle Taught me dependence. Maybe every setback Taught me perseverance. Maybe every heartbreak Taught me compassion. Maybe every mistake Taught me humility. Maybe every season Taught me to pray. Maybe every valley Taught me to stay.

Maybe every tear Watered something I couldn’t see. Maybe every hard season Was preparing the future me.

A woman looking in the mirror, reflecting on identity and healing

So no.

Maybe I was never supposed to suffer. Never supposed to fear. Never supposed to forget who I was.

But God was never looking For perfect people. He was creating A perfect work.

And somewhere between the breaking And the rebuilding, Between the wandering And the returning, Between the falling And the rising, I discovered something.

I wasn’t defined By what I went through. I was being shaped By the One bringing me through.

And if I had known then What I know now, I would have worried less. Trusted more. And remembered sooner Who God said I was.

But maybe…

That’s exactly what I was learning all along.

“I wasn’t defined by what I went through.
I was being shaped by the One bringing me through.”

The Truth Beneath the Reflection

"Sometimes losing ourselves does not happen all at once. It happens through small moments of abandoning our needs, silencing our convictions, and allowing pain, responsibility, or other people's expectations to rename us."

"Healing does not always mean returning to who you were before the loss. Sometimes it means meeting the person God has been forming through the loss—the one who survived, who learned, who is finally ready to be known."

"You were not meant to disappear into your roles. You were meant to inhabit them from a place of wholeness—not sacrifice your identity to maintain them."

Biblical Truth

"You will be called by a new name
that the mouth of the Lord will bestow.
You will be a crown of splendor in the Lord's hand,
a royal diadem in the hand of your God."

— Isaiah 62:2–3 NIV

Sit With This

1. When did you begin feeling disconnected from yourself?
2. What identity have pain, rejection, or responsibility placed on you?
3. What name or truth might God be inviting you to reclaim?

This space is for your private reflection. Your response will not be submitted or saved.

A Prayer for the Journey

God,

Somewhere along the way, I traded my name for a role and my voice for approval. I have been showing up for everyone and quietly disappearing from myself.

Today, I ask You to call me back—not to who I was before the pain, but to who You have been forming through it. Remind me that I am Yours before I am anyone else's. That my identity is not in what I carry, but in who You say I am.

Help me to recognize myself again.

Amen.

Carry the Reflection With You

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The Missing Person

For the person becoming someone their past no longer recognizes.