Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.
-Corrie Ten Boom
Who am I? It is a question that plagues us all at some point in our lives. We may rephrase it, but the base question stays the same. What is my purpose? Why am I here? What is my identity…Who am I?
A Million Little Things breaks this question down into a smaller query: Am I known? The show revolves around four friends who met an an elevator that broke down with them inside. They were united together by their love of the Boston Bruins which kept them connected as friends from that day forward. But when Jonathan, the individual in the group who seem to have his life most together, commits suicide; it leaves the remaining three friends questioning whether or not they really knew each other at all.
So what was Jonathan’s real identity? was it the smiling, wisdom giving, loving father and husband? Was it the secretly depressed man who committed suicide? And what was the meaning of the friendship between the four friends if they could not even be the slightest bit real with each other? One of the characters named Gary sums up their superficial relationship by saying:
“I spent almost 950 hours sitting next to John, and I had no idea that he was depressed. Did you? Did you? No! You want to know why? Because we don’t talk…The last time we said anything deep was when we were in that elevator. We were more honest with each other before we were friends. Now we do this. We sit shoulder to shoulder like guys, what we’re doing right now, and the truth, the very sad truth, is that we don’t really know each other. I bet you two don’t even know what color my eyes are. Yeah, I’ll drink. I’ll drink to whatever we thought this is.”
I believe many of us are unable or too afraid to answer the question who am I. As a result, we end up presenting a mask both too ourselves and those around us. We try to logically define ourselves through statistics, theorems, and science. But placing our identity in accomplishments, accolades, or any other temporal measurement merely postpones the need to have our questions about our identity answered. If we identify though our accolades, what happens when we no longer receive the adulation we crave. If it is in wealth, what happens when we no longer gain it. All of these things may be positive components of our lives, but they cannot define who we are.
When science and logic fail, many of us turn to emotion and spiritualism. We believe that if we pour ourselves into other individuals we will find the identity we crave. But what happens when the relationship we invested in ends? What happens when the friend we counsel still commits suicide? What happens if we give all we have until we simply feel empty inside?
I believe many of us want to know the end result of our actions. To know we did not live on earth in vain. We want to know what our purpose is, that we are not merely a 70 year accident that mildly entertained those around us. We want to know and be known. We want to love and be loved. But our sinful nature and the fear of being identified by it prevents us from showing who we really are, either to ourselves or others. As a result, we end up desiring something we can never seem to achieve: being known. We live in a society so broken, but unable to show it; so we end up destroying God’s most precious gift: life.

Some of us find ways of avoiding this ending by taking their pain out on others instead of themselves. The pain can masquerade itself in violent abuse, unresolved anger, jokes, ambition, silence, or any number of distractions we give ourselves to survive. But we were meant for more than survival. God has greater plans for all of our lives, and we are know mere accident. But before we can receive healing from God, we need to be able to identify our sickness and bring our need to him.
Simon Peter is the most famous of Jesus’ 12 disciples. He was at first glance a confident, seasoned fisherman. When Jesus entered his boat and told him to let the nets down, Peter indignantly responded “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” His identity had been, up until this point, a fisherman. But by answering his “who am I” with “fisherman”, he was not letting himself be truly known. When his identity as a fisherman was eliminated by a miracle catch of fish, Peter then allowed his true self to be shown to Jesus.
“…he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” For he and all who were with him were astonished at the catch of fish that they had taken, and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him.”
Peter allowed Jesus to know him. He showed his good and bad qualities, his whole self. Jesus already knew Peter’s whole nature, but when Peter opened up to Him, Jesus gave him a new identity and purpose. Jesus loved Peter, in spite of his flaws and not because of his strengths. It is in our weakness that God’s strength is known. It is when we allow God and others to see who we really are that everyone can see the miracle that Christ can have in a broken imperfect life. God can take the million little things that make up your life and turn it into a true masterpiece that is known the world around.