My Name

“He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” -John 10:3

What is God’s name for me? What does He call me? Am I Rebecca with one c or two? Or has He named me according to my deepest identity in some other-worldly language that I’ll only know once we are face-to-face?

I imagine myself in that moment, finally understanding myself fully — like He has known me all along — and not caring one bit because I’m with Him.

Either way, He knows me deeply and calls me lovingly by my truest name, whatever it is. With that name He calls and awakens the deepest parts of me like only the one who made me can do.

Refuge

My feet scuffed the dirt as my legs carried my heart down the trail and across the field, over and between the strong, solid rocks that reminded me of my Refuge.

I breathed Psalm 57:10 with every inhale and exhale. The very air I sucked into my lungs brimmed with His love and faithfulness that stretch up up into the sky above me.

Palms turned upward to the sky, I felt the sun touch them as the rays whisked away the beads of sweat. The wind played between my fingers.

I shut my eyes and opened my soul and imagined my heart in my upturned hands, holding it out and up to the One to whom it belongs. Knowing His hands are much safer than mine.

I need people

Too much or not enough for other people, that’s what we are, or at least that’s what the little inside voice tells us.

“Tone it down, they think you’re too much,” and later I hear, “Get it together, they think you’re not enough.”

And out of self-protection, we fight that inner-conversation with “No, it doesn’t matter what other people think of me!” That’s partly true, but we’ve made a virtue of not caring about other peoples opinions when the truth is that it does matter what people think and say to us. It’s both-and. It doesn’t matter and it does.

My true identity is not based on another person’s opinion of me. I am who I am — beloved of God, free, secure, and redeemed in Jesus Christ — despite a person’s judgment of me. In that sense, it doesn’t matter what they think of me and it shouldn’t matter. My deep identity, peace, and joy should never be shaken by someone’s opinion of me.

But precisely because my identity is sure, I am free to allow myself to let people speak into my life. If I’m sure of my identity, I can simultaneously heed what other people say to me but not be wholly dependent on their opinions. My secure identity frees me up to calmly and gratefully listen to a dear friend who tells me that I’m in the wrong.

If my identity is secure, the opinions of other people will never wreck me, and their words will be valuable to me.

In fact, I need people whose words do matter to me, I need people who can speak into my life, and I need people to have some kind of authority over me. It matters that I listen to the people I trust. It matters that I show all of myself to a few chosen, close, trusted friends or family, and trust them with some authority in my life.

woman wearing gray jacket
(Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash)

I have to stop being an authority-hog in my own life. So often I live as the queen of my own life — a kingdom in which I make the rules and what I want matters most. We create our own guidelines, based on nothing other than what we want or feel at the moment. No wonder we have fights and abuse and wars.

I need to be changed – deeply, from my guts to my skin, and I need God to do it in me. I need something outside of myself, something objective that I return to and listen to even if, at times, it contradicts my desires and flighty feelings. Otherwise I’m just living as the self-enthroned queen of my own life where I make the rules and standards of right and wrong and change them whenever I want.

I don’t want to be the queen of my own life. I don’t want to because I want to be selfless, I want to love people, and I don’t want to steal glory from my Jesus Christ.

If I don’t want to be queen of my own life, I need other people. Other people will never define me, but I do desperately need them.

I need trustworthy people in my life who are brave enough to speak to me when I’m straying, who remind me of my true identity, who know how to encourage me, and who love me enough to speak truth to me even if it’s hard. I will give them the right to confront me when I err, to cheer me on, to hold me accountable, and to ask me the hard questions.

And only because I rest in my unshakable identity, the things people say are no longer earthquakes that wreck the foundation of my soul. Instead, the words I hear from people will either be life-saving and life-changing or simple opinions that don’t even ruffle my feathers.

When I don’t care what people think, I lose my capacity for connection.
When I don’t care what people think, I miss out on valuable wisdom.
When I am defined by what people think, I lose my willingness to be vulnerable.
When I am defined by what people think, I will never know who I am in Christ.

“If we dismiss all the criticism, we lose out on important feedback, but if we subject ourselves to the hatefulness, our spirits get crushed. It’s a tight rope, shame-resilience is the balance bar, and the safety net below is the one or two people in our lives who can help us reality check the criticism and cynicism.” Brene brown

be a cheerleader

How can I become an individual whose very presence whispers worth to others?

Has someone ever made you realize that they believe in you much more than you believe in yourself? It exposes a lot of insecurity and self-doubt when you realize how much someone else believes you to be capable of.. Suddenly you realize they think you can, they think you’re worthy, they think you’re capable, they think you’ve got it. And you just don’t think so.

Truly believing in someone allows for failure. It says, “I am behind you, and I think you can do this. But because I care for you most of all, I will still be for you and be your cheerleader even if you feel as though you’ve failed.” I’m not sure what that looks like practically, but I want to figure out how to embody being cheerleaders and fans of other people.

“I believe in you.” Say it, show it, let them dream things up and then help them find the path. Show her what she’s capable of. Tell him he should try this thing, that he has a right to be here, to occupy this space. See in people what they cannot see in themselves, then draw it out, identify it, show it to them until they believe it themselves.

Be someone’s biggest fan in life.

Names have power

“Names have power, like magic spells. And all of a sudden it seemed to her that her stepmother and stepsisters had indeed transformed her into merely a creature of ash and toil.” – Cinderella

His tiny hand was raised in the air, waiting, itching to answer the question. I called him by name.

Considering I cross paths with over 600 students in any given month, learning names is basically an impossibility. Why then, I asked myself, did I know his name? His hand went down when he heard his name and another student whispered, “That’s so cool that Rebecca knows his name!”

I realized that I only knew his name because he’s one of the rowdy ones. One of the talkative, can’t-sit-still, doesn’t-do-his-work sort of children. And his name is frequently called because of that.

He answered my question perfectly, beaming from ear to ear, while I thought about NAMES.

I wondered what other names he had been given other than the one on his birth certificate. Annoying? Trouble? Lazy? And I thought how sad it would be if he thought those names were the truth about him.

We love to call things by a name. We give children names that they’ll keep for a lifetime, we give dogs names when we decide we want them to be ours. We give ourselves additional names that we think fit, like athlete or lazy or driven-student. And other people give us names that they think we need, like mom or worthless or friendly or weird or smart.

We undoubtedly end up living into those names, whether or not they are connected to our real identity.

We live into the expectations that come to us in the form of names.

Names mean something. It means something when someone calls out our name. It means something when someone gives us a name or when we take a name upon ourselves. We take on the nature of our names, because they have power.

It’s confusing when people are calling you all sorts of things, assuming you are something, expecting you to be something, making you into something you are not. Before you know it, if you’re not careful, all those expectations and names have worked their way into your identity.

We could assimilate those names people give us, and continue to give bad names away to other humans as if people are unbreakable. Or we could speak truth into our own souls and into the souls of others.

I can call out and remind myself and others of the true names – the true identity that I have in Christ.

But now, thus says the Lord, your Creator, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine!” (Isaiah 43:1)