I don’t know why I look twice when I see them. You’ve probably noticed them, too. No, not the ones with masks, but the folks who walk through airports with crinkled shirts and bulging waists.  

I know it’s their passport, and I get it. We protect ours, too. My husband, in what I think is a more sly way, hangs his from his belt so it rides under his pants. (That is, until he gets through security and to my dismay slips it into his shirt pocket. Its blue edges stick out like a neon light and seem to shout “steal me, steal me!”) 

It means so much, that tiny document. When that little book is secure, I am secure. It’s the proof of where I came from, and it’s the proof of where I belong. Well, where I sometimes feel I belong. 

Do you see where I’m going with this? I hold fast to the evidence of my United States identity, but I ask myself, am I just as obsessed with the security which God brings? 

I am God’s child (John 1:12-14).  

I am God’s friend (John 15:15).  

I have a “lawyer” who is my mediator in heaven (1Timothy 2:5).  

I am accepted by Christ (Romans 15:7).  

I am totally complete.  

I have Christ’s authority to walk in dark places (Colossians 2:10).  

I am no longer condemned (Romans 8:1).  

My heart is new (Ezekiel 36:25-26).  

I am chosen. I am holy. I am blameless before God (Ephesians 1:4).  

I am sealed as a promise through the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 1:13).  

I can walk into God’s presence (Ephesians 3:12).  

I am a citizen of heaven (Philippians 3:20). 

I am secure! No matter what culture I’m navigating, what deep grief or new birth I’m experiencing, how equipped I feel or how much I believe the enemy’s “imposter” screams, I am His. Whether I hide my identity or shout it, I am owned (Romans 14:8). He holds me, and my God will never lose me (John 6:39), not even during those times when I feel I may have lost Him.  

My security ultimately has nothing to do with a little blue book and everything to do with nail-scarred hands. It’s those hands carrying that little blue book in the first place.