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Really sweet post from Sam Powell called, “What is your name?” I’m just going to drink it all in personally, enjoy the cool refreshing taste of, “ahh, so this is what it feels like to be heard.” Now that’s the sound of healing! It’s a sweet sound like an abundant river, like the flow of living water.

Over the years I’ve written a few thousand posts, some articles for others, fired off dozens of letters. Scanning through some of those, some key phrases jump out at me, a common theme. Why don’t they listen to me? I feel like a girl trapped behind a wall of mirrors. Hear me! Am I struck in a penal colony full of people who don’t speak the same language? Am I invisible?  I feel as if I am wrapped in seran wrap and nobody can even see me. Am I shrieking impotently into cyberspace again? Why don’t they ever listen?…

I can never remain serious for very long, so eventually I just descend into these somewhat comical sci/fi avatars. Just the other day I mentioned 3 fairly well-known pastors and lamented, “You know what their problem is? They don’t listen.” I am still the girl trapped behind a sheet of plexiglass trying to be heard in what often feels like an exercise in complete futility.

To be seen and heard is the most amazing thing ever, especially for women. It’s healthy for men too, but there is just something about being female, about needing the help of men, and your pleas just fall in deaf ears. Or worse, they blame you because they don’t want to deal with it. That is just a soul killing, helpless feeling. Tends to create a lot of feminists in the world.

The second theme that runs through everything I’ve written is, “what is your name?” With much grace and good humor, IRL I have a few nicknames.  Hardly anybody uses my real name. IB is simply another nickname, my internet avatar, “insanitybytes.” Insanitybytes is actually just a defiant play on, No my name is not “crazy.”  No, I am not “delusional.” Nope, not “insane” either.  Or on the more Christian side of things, my name is not “heretic.” It is not “Jezebel” or “feminist” either.

My heavenly Father calls me “beloved.” He calls me “redeemed.” He calls me “His.” That is my name. That is who I actually am. Beloved.

Sam ends with, “I have a suggestion. Instead of focusing on our philosophy and apologetics classes that we took in seminary, maybe we should practice this: “What is your name?”

Amen, Sam. Once you know who you are and more importantly, Whose you are, everything else just tends to fall in place naturally. Forgiveness happens, healing flows, things get fixed. There are many, many people in the world who have simply  forgotten their name. He calls us by name.

As Christians one of the most important things we can do is to just listen. In that process of actually being heard, of seeing the Father’s grace reflected back to them by someone else, people will rediscover their name. Better yet, they will rediscover His name.


lionand lamb