Call Me By Name

All these tumultuous thoughts were making my stomach ache: fears of future choices and the effects on those I loved, present busyness that pulled me in different directions and exhausted me, the loneliness and stress that were eating holes in my stomach, the what if questions about finances and health. Laying on the massage table, receiving my weekly, therapeutic gift of touch, I couldn’t calm my tense body or my aching spirit.
“Just be with me.” I felt Jesus whisper in my soul. His still, small voice gracefully pulled my attention away from my issues and on to Him, the Lover of my soul. “Jenny,” His whisper of my name drew me with instant consolation. I felt my focus being absorbed by His grace, His presence. My breath slowed, my muscles relaxed, and my heart felt joy like nothing else can bring.
Letting go of every stressful image or palpitating fear seemed easier in this moment as my heart was surrounded by God’s desire to love me. His ache to have me by His side, to hold me, to love me. Oh how desperate my heart was to feel such importance! To be wanted by the One who knew every single moment of my past, present, and future. I let this thought permeate through my skin, warming my blood, filling every cell. He wants me. I am His.
No matter how big the problems I was facing seemed, no matter how much change was needed in my attitudes and actions, I heard the insistent reminder to quiet my soul and just be with the One who was in control of everything. In that moment, it wasn’t as important for me to figure out how to change my world or how to expand my influence, as it was to feel God’s comforting arms wrap around me and allow room for His love to assure me of my place in His heart.
His embrace was warm and tender. I felt surrounded by peace in the middle of the raging river of chaos that was my world. I stood soaked in life’s demands, but warmed by the strong chest I leaned on and the solid arms that held me. I felt scripture come alive. It was possible that whatever circumstances I found myself in, past, present, or future, I could quiet my soul and meditate on the joy of His abiding presence. I could heal from life’s pressures in the shadow of His wings, in the tenderness of His embrace. And I could flourish by His works to the place where I could shine His light and embrace others with His beautiful, unconditional love.
The next morning, sitting on the quiet street in front of the school I worked at, I thought about the intimacy of having my name known, being called by name. It’s a simple and yet intimate acknowledgment when you are called by name, when a friend or lover is completely focused on you and your name graces their lips. There’s importance shown, attention drawn. I don’t know how else to explain it. Hearing my name spoken out loud even in the morning coffee shop by the barista who has memorized more than just my order, brings a smile to my face and a sense of being important enough to know, to see. I randomly opened my Bible to the book of Isaiah.
Isaiah 43:1b “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name. You are mine.”
I closed my eyes and remembered the summoning of my name from the day before. Jesus knows my name. My eyes closed, the deep sigh released. He loves me enough to know exactly who I am. The single tear rolled down my cheek. He personally calls me His own.

Flowing Glory

We’re sitting here having these conversations, my little girl and I. My eighteen year old, grown up daughter who absolutely amazes me with her grace, depth, and beauty. We spend an hour looking over her art pieces, diving into the meanings and the stories and the exposure some pieces force on her. I see the tears well in her eyes as she experiences the nakedness of having her work observed, as she imagines a stranger’s eyes perusing what she has poured into her art. I am so proud of the readiness, the willingness in her to step out, to find courage and be seen. I hear her speak of the soulful strokes of her hands on the page and the depth of emotion that was released. She is my precious daughter, the woman I adore, and I am stunned by the capacities of her heart.

The next night we sit at the kitchen table sharing faith. Instead of seeing scripture through the eyes of a strict, condemning God, we talked about the revelation of the past four or five years in seeing through the compassionate eyes of Jesus. I hear the freedom in her voice, the excitement at being able to hear a verse spoken and instantly to pick up on the tone of grace. How habit that used to draw a straight, narrow minded line of disappointment and disgust into the words of Christ, are now abolished, replaced with the flowing glory of love’s tender words in scripture.

She shares her heart with me, entrusting more and more in the solid ties that bind us. I see the tears she’s often tried to hold back, now releasing in the safe place she is starting to trust. I hear her vulnerability being offered to me as equals, she as my little girl who has become this incredible young woman. I hear her wisdom. I feel her compassion. I taste her joy. I witness her honor. And I am blessed beyond all measure by her presence.

I Am With You

You fill me with hope. Every threat of inadequacy is destroyed by your power and love. The beautiful breeze you sent me this morning, simply blew away every “I’m not good enough” thought. You amaze me.

Thank you for clarity, for the knowledge that rings clear and true in the deepest parts of my heart. Thank you for courage, for the strength to be rooted in your power and your everlasting love. Thank you for willingness, for pushing me out the front door, for showing me over and over that every step on the journey is worth it. Thank you for cleansing, for every outpouring of grace that washes over me and heals me. Thank you for freedom, for awareness, and for joy.

Under a thin layer of skin, beats a jubilant heart. I feel it under the palm of my hand laying against my chest. Peaceful rhythm, tender smiles, gentle excitement. You have shown me the sunshine. I adore you.

Never stop teaching me. Never allow me to stand still. No matter how torrential the future storms look, how threatening the risks loom, push me forward into growth. Show me your power. You have built trust in my once crippled heart, and now I am jumping into your arms with surety that you will not only catch me, but that you will look at me with that beautiful, adoring gaze and hold me tighter and more secure than ever dreamed possible.
You fill me with hope.

I wrote this yesterday. Today I am being conquered by doubt. I have issues with being seen as “the bad guy.” Totally admitting that. The impending doom sits like a rock in my gut that I will be seen this way. It is a young emotion that I wonder if it will ever be done with me. Maybe God had me write this yesterday so I could reread it today. I need it today.
“Take My Hand” expresses everything I want to be. I want to love, not injure. I want to reach out, not push away. I want to comfort, not destroy. The little girl in me desperately wants to please. She wants someone to see the big hearted, playful girl. She wants to be known and adored no matter her mistakes. She wants to be valued just for being her. She wants to be loved.
The grown woman says it’s time to take care of myself. She gathers up every bit of courage to do what’s right even when it could hurt others. She struggles to keep hold of the freedom to laugh and to give. She stares at her reflection repeating over and over that she is valued and accepted by herself and by the God who created her.
It is one deep,frustrating conflict!

I Caught A Glimpse

I experienced my first glimpse of God using my past for His glory. I sat with two beautiful women, broken wide open, wounds both fresh and old. They shared stories with me as well as tears. And I was asked to share my victories, the God given healing I have and am still experiencing. There was a bit of hesitation in me, wondering if what I had to say would be too much for a stranger to hear. But in the eyes of this authentic woman who sat across from me, I felt a connection of heartache, and a desire to offer her encouragement in the witness of God’s mighty hand working through my life.

As I walked through my God story of trying to earn His favor to giving up in my disappointment to hearing His voice calling me back, I saw recognition in their eyes. God’s persistent beckoning when I was dirty, broken, with nothing to offer Him, was my heart’s undoing. He wanted me. He was pursuing me, and His tender voice never stopped calling, His hands constantly were held out to me, His arms wide open and ready to embrace me. The hope bloomed there, in speaking out loud His abiding love and desire for my heart. The hope bloomed as they listened to me and saw the genuine joy in my eyes, the glistening gratefulness in my tears.

I wanted to shout out how amazing He is, as I told them of the way He built trust in me so that He could do His miraculous and heart wrenching work of healing. In the middle of the painful exposure of my old wounds, I wondered when I would find peace. When He allowed ripping away of old protective covers, I panicked and wept fiercely over the heartache. For the first time ever, I told these two women about one instance where I was pushed and crippled by the process. I spoke out loud the powerful scene and broke down in tears with them at the admission of such rawness. And then God did it. Clarity. I saw His hand at work, I saw His incredible love for me and His wisdom in knowing exactly where I had to be taken emotionally to be able to face the reality of my past.

So many times we’re in the middle of the turmoil wondering where the end of the road is, where the other side of the crossing is. So often it takes years before we can look back and see the trail of God’s intervention. I saw it, sitting at my dining room table with my friends, willingly opening up to the possibility that God can use my story to bless another. I saw it in the abandonment of fear and the witness of what God can bring us through. I caught a glimpse of His power in my past, and a glimpse of His plans for my future.

My Tears Are Falling

As I am invited to step in, immersing myself in the mind, slowly examining the depths of our brokenness and the capability to find healing, I am overwhelmed with God’s outpouring of grace. I have cried everyday staring into our dark places, knowing personally the intricacies wounds create. Grieving the pain of losses, I stand in awe at the resilience, the strength, the determination of the human spirit. I shed tears for the stigmas and fears that hold us back from offering what’s needed: acceptance, significance, love.
God is creating in me new wells of understanding and compassion. He is filling me with desires to hold open my arms to those who have suffered rejection and heartbreak. God is teaching me to see, truly see for the first time the beautiful complications of the soul. I am afraid of what this all means, I am afraid of what my capacities are, I am afraid that I will not live up to the purposes He is leading me towards.
I am also willing to take the risk.