Café Au Lait and Layers of Grace with a twist! Discovering My True Identity!
- MS
- Feb 18
- 15 min read
Updated: Feb 19
My New Identity!
This blog is deeply inspired by my love for French pastries, those exquisite, golden delights that never fail to bring a smile to my face!
Each bite is an indulgent experience, bursting with rich, buttery flavors. The more decadent and buttery they are, the better!
It's a journey toward understanding that, much like the perfect croissant, the best things take time, patience, and a bit of faith.
My heart has danced through the sun-kissed landscapes of France over three unforgettable summer vacations, each a delightful chapter in my love affair with this enchanting country.
It was love at first sight, a moment that felt almost magical. My heart was captivated the instant I entered a French patisserie.
As I pushed open the door, the patisserie was alive with warmth and charm. The faint jingling of the bell above my head announced my arrival, and the world outside melted away.
As I stepped over the threshold, I was instantly transported into a sensory wonderland. The warm aroma of freshly baked croissants, the delicate hints of caramelized sugar, the rich scent of almond paste, and the earthy notes of espresso all danced around me, creating an enchanting symphony of scents. It was as if the air itself was alive with magic.
The space felt like a love letter to French artistry.
Tiny tables with marble tops were scattered throughout, paired with delicate iron chairs that curved like vines.
A chalkboard menu listed pastries and coffees in elegant cursive, and the counter gleamed with a display of edible treasures: almond croissants dusted with powdered sugar, jewel-toned macarons stacked in pastel pyramids, and golden pain au chocolat just begging to be torn apart.
I stood there, mesmerized, barely able to breathe, as childhood memories flooded back of baking in the kitchen, sticky fingers covered in flour and sugar and stolen bites of buttery dough before it hit the oven. That patisserie wasn't just a shop but a portal to simpler times of joy and wonder.
I felt something stir in my soul in those patisseries, those little sanctuaries of sweetness. Each word I overheard, spoken in that silky, musical language, felt like poetry as if the air was painting invisible art.
I was mesmerized, soaking it all in, watching the words roll effortlessly off tongues, dipping and dancing like notes on a song sheet.
It's no wonder my journey of discovering my new true identity brought me back to a patisserie, this time in conversation with Jesus.
Sitting at a marble-topped table, savoring a warm pain au chocolat and sipping a creamy café au lait, I found myself face-to-face with the questions I'd been avoiding.
"Who are you, really? Who do you believe you are?" Jesus asked, His tone playful yet piercing.
What followed was a heart-to-heart as rich and layered as a mille-feuille. We talked about how the world tried to define me, how religion sometimes weighed me down with expectations, and how easy it was to lose sight of who I truly am. It was easy to become disconnected from my authentic self, lost among the myriad voices and influences surrounding me.
But in those patisseries, surrounded by the smells, sights, and tastes I love, Jesus reminded me of a truth I had been too afraid to claim: my identity isn't something I need to build or earn; it's already mine, rooted in who I am in Him.
This blog is inspired by my many profound and heartfelt conversations with Jesus. It is a heartfelt journey into the layers of identity, grace, and transformation. It explores and invites you, dear beloved reader, on a journey to uncover what it truly meant to anchor myself in the unwavering truth of who God declares me to be and what it means to root myself in the reality of who God says I am.
This blog reflects not just my love for France, French food, and pastries but also the sweetness of discovering who I truly am in Christ.
So, pull up a chair, grab a croissant, and join me as we explore what it means to stop striving and start savoring the beauty of a life rooted in grace.
From Broken to Beloved: Crafting My New Identity with Scripture!
I used to wear labels that didn’t belong to me: not enough, too much, unworthy. They clung to me like a tough crust on a poorly made éclair.
But then I discovered the Divine Patissier, the One Who creates delectable pastries tailored just for me. I didn’t just appreciate French pastries; I began crafting my identity as if I were skillfully kneading dough, embracing the wisdom found in Proverbs 16:9: “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”
I didn’t just read the Bible; I wove it into the fabric of my being. Like an artist blending chocolate, flour, and crème, I took these sweet creations (verses) and made them personal, shaping them into declarations of who I was becoming. I wasn’t just reciting words; I was rewriting my story. I wasn’t just indulging in desserts: I was rewriting my recipe for life, remembering Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
When old wounds whispered, “You’re not enough,” I answered with Psalm 139:14: “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” But I didn’t stop there. I personalized it: “I am God’s intentional masterpiece, handcrafted with purpose, abundance, and love.” When fear tried to settle in, I reimagined 2 Timothy 1:7: “I walk in power, love, and a sound mind, unshaken by fear.”
Each verse became a building block, a brick in the foundation of my new identity. I scribbled them on sticky notes, whispered them over my morning coffee, and painted them in the air with my prayers, echoing Isaiah 41:10: “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” And as I lived them, breathing, believing, and becoming, I found that I was no longer defined by my past, struggles, or doubts. I was who He said I was.
This is the story of how I rebuilt my identity, one personalized promise at a time.
Instead of just reading Scripture, I stepped into it. I didn’t just quote 2 Corinthians 5:17: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” I personalized it: “I am not who I was. I am brand new, remade in His love.”
When insecurity tried to hold me back, I turned Isaiah 43:1 into my anthem: “He calls me by name, I am His. Fear has no claim on me.”
When old wounds whispered, “You’re not enough,” I answered with the richness of a buttery croissant: “I am layered with goodness, made to be savored.” But I didn’t stop there. I personalized it: “I am a masterpiece, baked with intention and care.”, embracing the message of Romans 8:31: “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?”
When fear tried to settle in like a stubborn puff pastry that wouldn’t rise, I reimagined the resilience of a tarte Tatin, “I stand tall, sweetened by love, and ready to face whatever bakes come my way.”
Each pastry became a building block, a layer in the crust of my new identity. I scribbled recipes of truth on sticky notes, whispered them over my morning café au lait, and painted them in the air like sugar dust.
And as I lived them, baking, believing, becoming, I found that I was no longer defined by my past, my struggles, or my doubts. I was who He said I was.
This is the story of how I rebuilt my identity, one personalized pastry at a time. Instead of just reading about French pastries, I stepped into the kitchen like a great chef. I didn’t just recite the joy of a freshly made macaroon; I personalized it: “I am a burst of flavor, unique and delightful, crafted with love.”
When insecurity tried to hold me back, I turned the elegance of a Tarte aux Fruits into my anthem: “I am a vibrant expression of joy, colorful, bold, and full of life.”
As Proverbs 16:24 reminded me, “Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.” I infused my days with sweetness, letting His Word be the icing on every pastry I crafted in my life, a reminder that I am cherished, deliciously made, and meant to spread His love.
I wrote these truths on my kitchen wall, whispered them in the morning air while I baked, and carried them like delectable treats in my heart. Day by day, I lived them out, choosing joy when I wanted to retreat, embracing love when I felt unworthy, standing taller in the identity He had already given me.
This is how I rewrote my story, with the flavors of life, my unique blend, and a heart that dared to believe, fueled by the wisdom of Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” because I am who He says I am, I have what He says I have, and I can do what He says I can do!
The Courage to Choose Myself: A Conversation with Jesus Over Croissants and Café Au Lait.
I stepped into the cozy warmth of a French patisserie on a crisp morning. The bell above the door jingled, announcing my arrival, and instantly, I was surrounded by the scent of freshly baked baguettes, buttery croissants, and a hint of vanilla. The air carried the faintest floral sweetness, lavender maybe, and I imagined the baker whisking it into the crème brûlée with the precision of an artist.
The patisserie felt like a little slice of heaven. Warm golden light streamed through tall windows, illuminating delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar and rows of éclairs that glistened under glass domes. The air smelled like butter, sugar, and freshly brewed coffee, and the hum of soft French chatter mingled with the faint strains of jazz playing in the background. I sat at a tiny marble-topped table near the window, surrounded by the beauty that made my soul breathe deeply.
Across from me, Jesus sat, effortlessly at ease, as if this charming patisserie had been His idea all along.
I took a deep breath, feeling something stir within me. This was not just a new place. This was a threshold, an initiation, a calling to step into the woman I have always meant to be.
Our café au lait sat untouched, foam swirled into a perfect heart, as He studied me with the kind of attention that made me feel seen, fully and completely. His presence was as warm and inviting as the bakery itself.
“I’m done,” I announced, breaking the silence as I returned my untouched croissant to my plate. My voice carried a mix of defiance and exhaustion. “I’m done waiting for the world to see my worth. I’m done shrinking to fit into boxes that make others comfortable. I’m done ignoring the voice begging me to choose myself.”
Jesus sat His spoon down and leaned forward, His gaze locking onto mine. “Tell me more,” He said, His tone gentle but curious, as if He was savoring my words more than the pastry in front of Him.
I took a deep breath, the confession tumbling out like a flood. “I’ve spent my life chasing approval, trying to be everything to everyone. It’s like I’ve been living someone else’s script, following rules that feel suffocating, not true to who I am. I’ve been performing, trying to be unique and valuable, but afraid of standing out too much. I’ve been driven, but not in ways that feel authentic. And in all of it, I’ve ignored what my heart has been screaming for.”
Jesus tilted His head, a knowing smile playing on His lips. “What has your heart been screaming for?”
“For me to stop.” My voice cracked, and I blinked back tears. “To stop pleasing others. To stop looking for validation outside of myself. To stop ignoring the music You placed inside me, the rhythm of who I truly am.”
He nodded, His eyes filled with compassion. “It sounds like you’ve been dancing to someone else’s music for far too long.”
Jesus sipped His coffee, the steam curling around His face like a blessing. “So, you’re done.”
“Yes.” I nodded as if trying to convince myself. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the truth of His words settle in my bones.
"This time, it’s not about waiting for someone else to see my worth. It’s about me stepping into it with full, unshaken confidence. I’ve earned this wisdom. I know the power of my choices. And I am choosing fiercely, fully to love myself in a way I never have before.” I leaned back, exhaling slowly, allowing the tension in my body to dissolve.
Jesus tilted His head. “That’s beautiful. That’s freedom. Love starts here, in this surrender and radical permission you give yourself. Your identity is not something you need to chase, my beloved. It’s already been given to you. And I’m here to help you discover it more fully. Let’s start with the truth: You are chosen and loved, a daughter of the Most High. Your worth is anchored in who I am, not in your achievements or others’ opinions.”
I smiled, feeling the truth of His words wrap around me like a silk robe. “It’s quite amusing how I used to think I was meant to retreat into the shadows, settling into the cozy comfort of complacency or simply fading away like an old memory. But guess what? Instead of slipping quietly into the background, I’m bubbling over with energy! I feel like a crème brûlée, with a rich, velvety interior waiting to be discovered beneath a crisp, caramelized shell. Like the perfect dessert, I’m bursting with delightful flavors and a magnetic charm that can brighten even the dullest day. I'm excited, ready to dive headfirst into life’s endless possibilities, dancing through challenges and embracing every wild adventure that comes my way!"
Jesus chuckled. “That’s because you’re not resisting anymore. You’re aligning. And when you align, love, real, abundant, electric love flows toward you like delicate macaroons cascading back onto a beautifully adorned platter, inviting and irresistible."
“That’s what I want. I want to embrace this new chapter without hesitation with open arms, heart, and soul. I want to not just believe I am worthy of love and abundance but also live like I am. But the only question is… where do I start it? Where do I find the courage to choose myself when all I’ve ever done is try to be what others need me to be?”
He sat His cup down and leaned back in His chair, His eyes sparkling with mischief and wisdom. “The answer, mon amie, is simpler than you think. But first, tell Me this: Who do you believe you are?”
The question startled me. I fumbled with my words. “I’m… I’m a blend of contradictions. A seeker. A dreamer. An adventurer. Someone who feels deeply, maybe too deeply, craves beauty, connection, and meaning. But I get stuck, torn between wanting to shine and fearing I’ll be too much. Or not enough.”
Jesus nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of His mouth.
"You want to be seen genuinely, achieve without selling your soul, and seek adventure without losing your heart’s authenticity."
I exhaled sharply, His words cutting straight through my confusion. “Yes! That’s exactly it. But how do I move forward? How do I reclaim my voice and stop playing small?”
The café seemed quiet around us as if the entire room was listening.
“So how do I stop listening to the world and start living in who You say I am?”
Jesus reached for His cup of coffee, the steam curling around His fingers. “Start with My words. Make them your source. When the world says you’re not enough, remember 2 Corinthians 12:9: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ When you feel unseen, hold onto Isaiah 43:1: ‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are Mine.’ And when you’re tempted to strive for approval, rest in Colossians 2:10: ‘I am complete in Christ, I lack nothing.’”
I let the verses wash over me, like the gentle heat of the sun streaming through the window. “So it’s about rooting myself in truth, not performance,” I murmured.
“Exactly,” He said, His eyes crinkling with joy. “And the transformation? It starts the moment you stop striving and start abiding. Abide in Me, and let My words abide in you. You’re not here to prove your worth but to live it out.”
Jesus leanned forward, resting His elbows on the table as if sharing a secret. "First, I want you to remember this: You are fearfully and wonderfully made.” He quoted Psalm 139:14 with a warmth that felt like a soft embrace. “Your uniqueness, the parts of you that seem contradictory, like your longing for depth and your love for freedom, are woven together by Me. Don’t try to change those things; instead, see them as parts of the whole I’ve created.”
I closed my eyes momentarily, feeling His presence wash over me.
“That’s hard to grasp sometimes. How do I really step into this new identity, though? How do I stop living in the shadow of what I think others want and start embracing the fullness of who You say I am?”
Jesus’s smile deepened. “You start by listening. To Me, yes, but also to yourself. As you trust Me, you must trust yourself; as you know Me, you must know yourself. That small, persistent voice inside you? That’s Me, too. You’ve been drowning it out with noise, other people’s expectations, scripts that don’t fit, and your own fear of rejection. It’s time to turn down the noise.”
“And how do I do that?” I asked, leaning in like a student desperate for wisdom.
The question felt both freeing and terrifying. I glanced at the basket of freshly baked croissants on the table, trying to find the words. “I want to listen to the music You’ve placed inside me. I want to reclaim my voice, stop playing small, and stop believing that everyone else knows best about me. I want to stop following scripts that feel like lies. I want to live boldly, authentically, as the person You created me to be. I want to know more about my identity in You. How do I create a new identity in You, especially with my need for depth and authenticity, my drive to perform, and my need for joy and freedom? Sometimes it feels like I’m still stuck between who I think I am and who You say I am.”
He smiled, and it felt like the sun had just decided to shine a little brighter. "That’s a beautiful vision: a heart craving authenticity, a desire to be seen and celebrated, and a mind dancing between possibilities. Like a mille-feuille, you have many unique layers. You're already on your path, even if you don't see it yet."
I blushed, staring down at the pastries in the glass case. There was the mille-feuille He mentioned, its golden puff pastry stacked with silky vanilla cream. Next to it, éclairs glistened with glossy chocolate, and macarons sat in neat, colorful rows like edible jewels.
“So, which pastry would You be?” I asked, a mischievous grin tugging at my lips.
Jesus leaned back, pretending to ponder. “Maybe the croissant. Simple and approachable, but if you look closely, there are countless layers, each rolled with care and purpose.”
He smiled, and it felt like the whole room paused to listen. I took a deep breath and asked, “What steps can I take to really live in this new identity? What can I do to stop performing and just be me?”
Jesus smiled, His presence radiant. “Step one: Rest in who I say you are. Start each day with the truth: ‘I am a beloved daughter of God.’ When you wake up, instead of rushing to check your emails or seeking approval from others, begin with this simple statement. You are enough in Me. You don’t have to prove it to anyone. You need space. Quiet moments, like this one, where you let yourself simply be. No performing, no pleasing, just being."
I smiled, imagining how it would feel to wake up and remind myself of that truth each morning. “Okay, I can do that. What’s next?”
"Step two: Find your worth in Me alone. You are the apple of My eye (Psalm 17:8). Stop looking to others to affirm your worth. The only voice that matters is Mine. When you find your worth in Me, you’ll no longer feel the need to perform or shrink.”
“Step three: Live authentically, not for applause. Be honest with yourself and with Me about what you need, what you want, and who you are. Your gifts are not about performing but about being true to who I made you to be. I created you to be a blend of passion, creativity, and joy. Don’t apologize for it. Live fully, without holding back.”
"Step four: Start Choosing What Feels True to You.” He said with a sparkle in His eye. "Passionate, creative, and full of possibility. So, make decisions from that place of authenticity. What truly brings you joy, freedom, and connection? Whether it’s choosing the most whimsical pastry at this very table or saying ‘no’ to something that doesn’t serve you, start making choices that align with who you actually are, not who others want you to be.”
I glanced at the display of pastries, my eyes twinkling. “So, I could actually choose the raspberry tart over the chocolate one just because I want it?”
Jesus chuckled. “Exactly. Small choices like this build the muscle of authenticity. And with every choice, you’ll begin to discover more of yourself.”
I laughed, feeling the weight of my old patterns lighten just a little. “Okay, I’m ready to stop playing small. But what about the fear? The fear of stepping into who I really am?”
Jesus’s smile softened, His voice rich with reassurance. “Step five: Embrace Your Courage. Fear is natural, but it doesn’t define you. Courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear; it means moving forward even when you feel it. Trust that the more you choose yourself, the more your courage will grow. And remember, you never walk alone. I’m with you in every step.”
I felt a warmth spread through me, a sense of profound relief. “What if I slip back into old patterns?”
“Then you begin again,” He said with gentle certainty. “Each time you feel yourself shrinking or seeking approval, remember—this is not your home. Your home is in the truth of who you are, and it’s always waiting for you to return.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting His words sink in. “I’m ready,” I whispered, a quiet fire igniting within me. “Ready to stop seeking approval. Ready to listen to my own music.”
Jesus raised His café au lait once more, His eyes full of light. “To listen to your own music,” He toasted. “And to never again shrink to fit into someone else’s mold.”
We clinked our cups, and I felt the shift inside me, a quiet but powerful transformation. The truth of who I am began to surface, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was finally becoming myself.
I took a bite of the warm, flaky croissant, savoring the sweetness, texture, and joy that bubbled up inside. I was done waiting, done shrinking, done playing small, and finally choosing myself with each moment.
I glanced out the window, where the world bustled on, unaware of the sacred conversation happening inside. And as I took another bite of my croissant, I realized something: my identity isn’t something I need to chase. It’s already mine, as solid and unchanging as the One who gave it to me.
