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One of the Most Important Questions We Can Ask the Father

October 17, 2019 4 min read

Real talk—to my core, I am a worker and a striver. And sometimes, I turn into the worst kind of hustler—fighting to prove that I belong, that my voice carries value, that I am more than another number in this world. 

It’s why I need to remember that I don’t make the trees grow. I don’t make the sun rise or cause the seasons to change. On my own, I don’t say much of significance—the kind of eternal echoes that last past my final breath.

This striver, this prover, this stamp on my skin that I wear like a badge of honor pushes the Father away, makes me the hero of the story. Oh how I wish this was a new conversation, new prayers of repentance, but it’s not. It’s as old as I am—26 years of letting go of the idol called proving. 

About a year ago, I sat with the Father in my Mae Sot home. On that day He whispered to my heart, “Ask me what your name is.” 

The beauty and sacredness of this deeply personal invitation still takes my breath away. On that day, I asked, hoping against all the doubts in my mind that He would answer. Isn’t it funny that even when we’ve been invited into a conversation with the Father, our heart still wonders if we’ll encounter Him? 

“What’s my name?”

Beloved.

The word came almost immediately, as if the Father had been waiting every day of my life for me to finally hear this name. I believe this wasn’t the first time this name had left His lips. It was just the first time I’d heard it—the first time it had broken through the noise, the working, the proving, the doubts.

Beloved.

It’s the name the Father sung over the Son before His ministry had really begun. It was a name based not on performance but on family. He was the Beloved because he was the Son. And I am the Beloved because I am the daughter—a name, a calling, an identity based not on my track record, my tireless work, my endless striving, but on family.

And, friend, He calls you Beloved too.

This truth catches me off guard every time. It captivates me and reminds me, once again, of the truth. Time and again, the Father tells me to rest in this name, in His love and delight. Day after day He tells me to start here—rested in the name He’s given me. This name, this family, this identity is enough because He is enough. 

Friends, our culture values numbers and efficiency. Success is defined by how many people we influence, how much money we make, how many likes and shares and retweets we boast. We reach greater status by the number of notches on our belt—the people we know, our instagram-worthy house, name brand anything. So we work and we strive and we prove that we are good enough. We are capable. We have arrived. 

But if you’re like me, sooner or later you begin to understand that you control nothing. You are here today and gone tomorrow. You are trending right now but will be old news in an instant. People value and praise you until next comes along—and it always comes quicker than we expect. 

Today, I am humbled by my own humanness, but more than that, I am humbled by my Father’s delight in me. I’m humbled by the name He’s given me—Beloved. This place of family, this belonging in relationship moves me to gratitude. I hold my empty hands and beg my good Father to fill them up. I am reminded that until I can rest—find “enough” in the name the Father gives me—I will never find the exit ramp for this thing called proving and neither will you. 

So friend—brother and sister, father and mother, aunt and uncle in Christ—put down your striving. Put down your need to prove—whatever that looks like for you. Throw down these idols, and call on the Father. I believe that He’s not far—that my experience with Him in the middle of Thailand is not unique to our relationship. 

He waits beside you, begging you to ask, “What’s the name You call me?”

Believe—in spite of all doubt—that He wants to answer you, and remember that this name isn’t new. It’s been sung over you from the beginning of time. It’s time for us to rest in the name the Father gives us. 

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