Sabbath Devotional :: The Power of Personal Narrative in Creating Identity and Vision

As a junior in high school, I usually enjoyed my popular Thomas Hardy/Charles Dickens English class with Mr. Thompson. He had a quick wit and engaging teaching style that usually led to interesting discussions among my classmates about all kinds of social topics. On one particular morning, as I sat ready to participate in our literature discussion, Mr. Thompson began with the following statement: “As we all know, religious people are just looking for a crutch to explain their suffering.”

As a devoted religious teenage girl living in a largely secular community in Northern California, I sat there shocked, but silent. I was not prepared to say anything to contradict my teacher. I had never before encountered this type of public affront on my religious beliefs in an academic classroom setting.

After a moment’s pause, one of the more popular boys in my class, Jack, chose to speak up and responded by saying, “Hey, Mr. Thompson, I think there might be some religious people here who might disagree with what you just said.” While he had set me up perfectly to voice my disagreement with Mr. Thompson, I let the moment pass. I admired Jack’s courage to defend a religious person like me — especially when I knew he didn’t share my religious beliefs — but his support wasn’t enough to motivate me to act. At the time, I just assumed that hardly anyone felt the way I did about God, so why bother with making myself potentially unpopular and sticking out in a crowd?

For more than 30 years, I have regretted my silence that day because my actions did not reflect my truest, most salient personal identity as a religious believer. I can still see myself sitting in that classroom chair, confused about what to do and wondering what to risk in the moment.

I now understand my 16-year-old self’s dilemma: I had learned to straddle two different worlds by creating two different identities that reflected the values and beliefs of each environment. I had not yet created a cohesive personal narrative that integrated key ingredients of my identity into a seamless whole.

Over time, I began to realize that I could redirect and recreate my narrative to better reflect my true identity and vision for myself.

What is personal narrative, and why does it matter to my spiritual life?

As spiritual beings having mortal experiences, we have the capacity to interpret our experiences and create thriving social identities that enhance our journeys back to our Heavenly Parents. In the theory of narrative identity, each of us creates our own self-identities by integrating our life experiences into a cohesive story about ourselves. Through these stories, we are able to understand our past, present, and imagined future. These personal stories help provide a sense of unity, purpose, and vision in our lives. Despite what others may say or do, we are the primary authors and creators of the direction our lives go (or don’t go).

During our personal storytelling process, what we say, how we say it, and especially if we keep saying it shapes who we are and where we stand. Talking about our past selves in relation to our new selves allows us to witness our own growth and understand ourselves better (“The Psychology of Life Stories“).

We recognize that we are not static, but dynamic beings capable of choice and change. Like Steinbeck relates in “East of Eden,” “But the Hebrew word, the word timshel — ‘Thou mayest’ — that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man [or woman]. For if ‘Thou mayest’ — it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.’”

We choose the lens through which to view our own past, present, and future. If we don’t like a certain direction we are taking with our narrative, we can change it through the power of Christ’s atonement. We have access to His grace that provides the strength and momentum to change the narrative in desired directions.

From social psychology, we know that both genetics and environment play a strong role in how our self-identities are developed. Yet, we are much more than these two powerful influences on human behavior. Beyond the influence of genetics and environment, I believe our moral identities as spiritual beings have the greatest potential to influence how we think, feel, and behave — if we allow for it.

Even in the scriptures, I find examples of followers of Christ who created either positive or more sobering personal narratives about their mortal journeys. While I genuinely appreciate honesty and authenticity, some truthfully written scriptural accounts have caused me serious reflection about my narrative.

When I read the prophet Jacob’s final words about his time on earth in the Book of Mormon, I think back to my silence and dread in Mr. Thompson’s English class. Stimulated by the contrast, I am determined to create a happier, more enthusiastic, and hopeful life trajectory and identity as a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Of his people, Jacob writes, “the time passed away with us, and also our lives passed away like as it were unto us a dream, we being a lonesome and a solemn people, wanderers, cast out from Jerusalem, born in tribulation, in a wilderness, and hated of our brethren, which caused wars and contentions, wherefore, we did mourn out our days” (Jacob 7:26).

Jacob chose to characterize his people’s time on earth as refugees, migrants, and strangers in mourning. His people’s identity centered on being lonesome, solemn, homeless, and even hated by family. Certainly, he suffered many trials and naturally formulated his main identity around the negative circumstances of his life.

In contrast to Jacob’s view of his own life, his father, Lehi, chose a dramatically different perspective on related life events. Consider Father Lehi’s words of comfort to his wife, Sariah, when she worried about the lives of her sons while they sought Laban’s plates in Jerusalem: “I know that I am a visionary man; for if I had not seen the things of God in a vision, I should not have known the goodness of God, but had tarried at Jerusalem, and had perished with my brethren. But behold, I have obtained a land of promise, in the which things I do rejoice; yea, and I know that the Lord will deliver my sons out of the hands of Laban and bring them down again unto us in the wilderness” (1 Nephi 5:4-5).

What a different perspective about the same historical events! Lehi did not see himself as cast out of Jerusalem but rather delivered from destruction and favored of God. Lehi certainly had the luxury of relying upon personal revelation received from the Lord about the need to leave Jerusalem, which bolstered his faith. However, he chose to tell himself a different story about leaving Jerusalem. He considered himself blessed to have been warned of God to leave; he speaks as if he has already obtained the promised land he is journeying towards. Despite leaving his notable wealth, social status, and extensive family ties, he didn’t focus on the loss, but on his gains for following revelation.

Long before arriving in the promised land, Lehi’s faith allowed him to not only envision God’s blessings but to experience gratitude in the moment for the blessings to come. His vision helped him create an identity for his family as they experienced the ups and downs, trials and troubles of the journey toward the promised land. Like the wise men from the East, Lehi followed the star with purpose that came to him through intimate personal experiences with Deity.

While I respect Jacob’s caricature of his own mortal experience, I know that I can choose something different with my gospel knowledge and personal relationships with Deity. Like Lehi, I want to expand my own narrative and create an even more powerful source of personal identity that moves me joyfully toward my promised land.

What are you writing as the narrative of your life? What role do you play in the narrative? What vision guides your path?

Understanding that we can change our narrative to match our vision

One of Satan’s greatest temptations is to tell us that we can never change — that the narrative is fixed. Each of us can be trapped in the troubles, heartaches, mistakes, and trials of the past. Yet, whatever the reason for a needed change in direction, we can access narrative-changing power through the atonement of Jesus Christ.

We can repair the breach between our desired narrative and the thoughts, feelings, and actions that have diverted us from the path toward our own promised lands. Understanding our tendency to doubt our ability (as well others’ abilities) to really change a life narrative, Elder Dale G. Renlund addressed our possibility to become new creatures with new narratives. Elder Renlund stated that “God cares a lot more about who we are and who we are becoming than about who we once were.”

He also shared the following story from Shakespeare’s comedy, “As You Like It”: “[Shakespeare] depicts a dramatic change in a character’s life. An older brother attempts to have his younger brother killed. Even knowing this, the younger brother saves his wicked brother from certain death. When the older brother learns of this undeserved compassion, he is totally and forever changed and has what he calls a ‘conversion.’ Later several women approach the older brother and ask, ‘Was’t you that did so oft contrive to kill [your brother]?’

“The older brother answers, ‘’Twas I; but ’tis not I: I do not shame to tell you what I was, since my conversion so sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.’

“For us, because of God’s mercy and the Atonement of Jesus Christ, such a change is not just literary fiction. . . . For us, because of the Atonement of Christ and our repentance, we can look at our past deeds and say, ‘’Twas I; but ’tis not I.’ No matter how wicked [young, naïve, or misguided], we can say, ‘That’s who I was. But that past . . . self is no longer who I am.'”

The older brother understands, accepts, and integrates the narrative of his past self but focuses on who he has become. We can do the same and live by the type of vision that creates current joy, momentum, and enthusiasm for a hopeful future. Knowing that “Where there is no vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18), we imagine and craft our desired narratives with glorious visions as guides.

“With God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37). We have more control over creating our own hopeful personal visions than we think, especially when we allow the Spirit of God to widen our lens. When we open ourselves to receiving personal revelation in our minds and our hearts (Doctrine & Covenants 8:2), we allow ourselves to receive God’s vision, which reflects eternal purposes and values.

I challenge you to draw near unto God and share your deepest desires and all your stories with Him. Let Him enlighten your mind and fill your heart with joy so that your stories — your beautiful, unique, consecrated stories — bear fruit now, even before their full fruition in a glorious future prepared for those who love Him.

---

Emily De Schweinitz Taylor is the senior director of the peaceful root for Mormon Women for Ethical Government.

---