“I’m just a marine.”
So said the man standing in my doorway the other day. He was representing a company that does business with the company I work for. We were talking about a project on which we were collaborating. I was taking care of some techie stuff so our two companies could communicate electronically.
I apparently started speaking ‘techeese’ and lost him at the bakery, and that’s when he said ‘I’m just a marine.’ Understand me here. He was not putting himself down, or diminishing himself in any way. He was just stating a fact. He was, in fact, not an active marine. He was retired, and now has a job with a local ink company.
But if you ask him who (or even what) he is, the answer is,
“I’m a marine.”
When did he become a marine?
Was he born a marine? Nope.
I suspect the day he stepped out of the bus at the Marine Corps base at Quantico, he was a marine embryo. Over the course of the next few weeks in the womb of that base, through the umbilical cord of his drill sergeant he formed, in short order, into a full-grown, loaded for bear, marine.
You could say, he was born again.
Once born as a marine - it would be his identity for life. No matter how long he lives after Quantico, he identifies himself as a marine.
Have you been born-again?
Have you passed through the womb of the cross - killing the old man - connecting to the umbilical cord of the Spirit of the Living God? Has the breath of Live blown into your lungs and changed your DNA? Are you a new creation—new species— with the life of God inside?
Who are you? How would you identify yourself?
“I’m a child of the King.”
“I’m a son of God.”
“I’m a light set on a hill.”
“I’m an heir of the promise.”
“I’m a Christian.”
Shine where you’re screwed in.