No one gets to name you.

"No one gets to name you,” she leaned in and whispered. I let out a short laugh, but not the joyful kind. All of my life I’ve been named.

Sensitive.
 Average. 
Too much like my dad. 
These are some of the names I would like to forget.

When I was younger, my mother used to tell me with a gentle smile that my name meant “consecrated to God”.  Men and women twice my age would tell me that I was a “wise river”… But is a river really wise if it can’t understand its own depth?

Like how I have such terrible anxiety when it comes to dealing with conflict that I shut down. Or how I always seem to break things, just because I don’t handle anything with enough care. Then there are the things I’ve quit even though I was good at them, simply because I like to feel the challenge of something new.

There were years I tried to define myself through a megaphone, and other years when I hid as much of myself as I could. I believed that anything I tried was better than being named someone or something I wasn’t. I ran and I protected and I fought to be known. I fought for approval, while desperately trying to convince the world that I didn’t need it.  I flailed and I sank, all for the chance to say, “THIS is who I am.”

“You should be [this]”

“You need to change [this]”

"God wants you to be [this way]"

I may not always understand the currents running through my veins, or even consider them wise, but there are some truths about myself I have come to know.

I won’t apologize for feeling too much or loving too deeply in a world that squashes our emotions. I won’t neglect an opportunity to say, “I’m for you and I’m with you,” when I’ve known far too well the shout of, “you’re on your own”. I won’t close off the ache from a fallen world that groans within, but I will embrace the Kingdom that is to come. I won’t be embarrassed by my tears at hearing an unkind word, for those words are a deep brokenness in disguise. I will not be held to a Proverbs 31 standard, but to the words and actions of Jesus Christ. For a Proverbs 31 woman is not contingent on 21 lines of scripture, but on her certainty in her Maker. A Proverbs 31 woman is no one unless she is aiming to be more like her Creator. And I will not be more concerned with the personal lives of others than I am with being personal.

And until then, I struggle to forget all the rest that made me question… me. Because in a world where not enough kind words are spoken, we can choose to speak kindly to ourselves. Remember who you’ve been called to be from the One who matters most, and decide that no one else gets to name you anything that doesn’t coincide. If I expect to be “set apart”, I can’t always expect to be understood. 

And I'm learning that people will always have an opinion of you. Don't let opinions settle into your heart without first filtering them through God's truth about who you are. 

To those who've been hurt by the Church,

We’re getting closer and closer to end of this tour. I dreaded the end, almost since the day we began. I knew it would come and I knew I wouldn’t welcome it. 3 weeks left, and if you mentioned “the end” yesterday, you probably would have gotten a glare and a, “we don’t speak of such things” lecture.  ;)

I wish I could accurately convey all that has happened here, there, and in the deep trenches of my heart – and what is still happening and ruminating inside.

“This will be a life changing experience!”, many said. “How irresponsible of you – to quit jobs to go on a glorified road trip!” others added. Many of you sowed financially, and many more of you covered me in prayer. All I knew was that I was on a mission to start saying “YES” to Jesus every time. This wasn’t the first time I said an “irresponsible” yes to Jesus and quit jobs to do unconventional ministry, but it has definitely been where I’ve learned the most about the heart and cause of Christ.

As we meet new people and stay in their homes, I’ve been stunned by how many people  pour out their hurt to us. Sometimes it’s a subtle story that they brush off immediately; other times, they weep as they share their whole heart, the beautiful mess of it. Several have shared about their scars that were the result of an unfortunate experience with the local Church.

They share, and I ache. I ache for the Church. I ache for the ways my own heart has been jaded and against the local Church. As new friends share story after story of the damage that the Body has done, that has now resulted in intentionally separating themselves from the Church, I feel my heart sink.

The ache that I feel for them, and for the Church, is directly related to my own self inflicted bitterness. As women, we are often convinced that we are a slave to tumultuous emotions;  that we can't help it when our feelings overcome us, controlling what we say and how we act. Contrary to popular belief, anger, tears of self-pity, overwhelming feelings of hurt, even hormonal ups and downs can all be conquered by the Spirit.

I hadn’t noticed until now – that in hearing the pain that others have felt (in the same way that I have felt over a course of 5 years), in praying with them, Jesus was delivering me from my own pain and self-inflicted bitterness. His love and life is far more powerful than our most intense feelings. 

And I’ve learned that for those who are weary and burdened by religious rules and expectations, Jesus promises rest and deliverance. For those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, Jesus promises satisfaction. For those who are in need of refreshing and truth, Jesus promises streams of living water. For those who have been marginalized and cast aside, Jesus promises a banqueting table and a place of high honor. For those who long for reconciliation and forgiveness, Jesus promises mercy and grace. For those deemed “unclean,” Jesus promises embrace. For those who long for communion, there is bread and wine. And for those who long to be baptized, there is water.

And the same things that He offers us, we are to extend to others… even those within the Church.

Especially those within the Church. 

It’s often easier to love and care for the person who hurts you that is far from Christ, but Galatians 6:10 says:

“Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.”

Jesus instructs us to walk in His  love toward all people --believers and unbelievers alike. Jesus told us to love our enemies … But here, Paul placed a priority on helping others Christians.

This does not eradicate our responsibility to show God's love to unbelievers. Instead, Paul was simply saying, "Love must start at home." It would be hypocritical of me to bypass hurting Christians to go find unbelievers to minister to. 

Jesus may have allowed me to go to this place of bitterness, hurt, and frustration with the Church to be able to come to this place of all-consuming love for it. I feel like it’s been an insanely long journey, but I no longer want to withdraw from the Church, I want to be a part of it’s healing. I want to love it like Jesus does. Even when it doesn’t necessarily look like Him. I desire for it to come back to the heart of worship… “…where it’s all about You, Lord. It’s all about you. And I’m sorry, Lord, for the things that we make it… when it’s all about You. It’s all about You, Jesus”