What’s In A Name?

I believe that by God’s grace it is our destiny, in this life or in whatever life awaits us, to discover the face of our inmost being, to become at last and at great cost who we truly are.” ~ Frederick Buechner

Our breakfast nook by the sea.

We went to the Stony Creek shore, my girl Jenni and I, and sat down at the scarred wooden table outside the breakfast and pizza shop, next to the antique store. This is the quintessential New England setting by the sea and the two of us take these bits-of-time every chance we can – the scenery, the slow, the quiet, the hearts reaching toward one another in gentle, vital communion.

There we were with the lapping waves and the breeze and the sun-rays slanting and casting shadows when the sharing turned extra deep to get the load off our chests, to bear one another’s burdens . . . From an ache pressing against the surface of her ribs, Jen says to me, “I just need someone to tell me who I am again.

{Have you ever felt that? The burning-raw need to put language to your identity? Or is it enough to know that you operate from your true self, language notwithstanding?}

Her pain reaches straight through my skin and grabs hold tight to my heart as I look at her through the quickly forming pools in my vision. Across our half-eaten omelets sits a face I have journeyed with for ten years and I meet her gaze that had already let-go liquid emotion.

This woman with the green eyes and the ready love, I know her. I know her as much as my human intuition and our relationship history allows and she knows me.

Heart-to-heart we walked through the discovering, uncovering of what God had named us from the beginning, as His very own daughters.

Liberty is her name and the seed from which all her fruit grows, the lens through which she views the world, what she offers when she enters a room, the aura that follows in the wake of all her movement. The piece of Jesus’ body she carries. It cannot be stripped from her core I know, but can be hidden beneath the pressures and circumstances of life and she is in the midst of them right now.


I just need someone to tell me who I am again.”

The only thing I can tell her from the seat of my plastic outdoor chair is that I know her name and I know what’s in that name. All of who she is fly’s from the center of it and my dear Liberty, while the future application of your name is in perpetual emergence, remember that I know you, that He knows you and we will not let the deepest parts of your kingdom gift go unrequited.

What about you? Is there a word that rests in the crux of your core? An inherent piece of Christ that manifests naturally from your heart?

I would love to hear about it . . .