I HAVE CALLED YOU BY YOUR NAME

But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob,

And He who formed you, O Israel:

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by your name;

You are Mine.

This was the memory verse and theme for our ladies' retreat recently.

I didn't realise how much that retreat was preparing me for what He was doing next in my life, calling me by name, calling me out of a stronghold that has held me captive for over 40 years. 

A couple of weeks ago, I heard Him call be by name during worship.   It wasn't the name everyone else knows me by.  It was a name He often uses and which I had learnt to hate, because of the memories it invoked, but He was determined to redeem it.

The name isn't the problem - it's what it represented, what it reminded me of.   

Once upon a time, I was Daddy's little girl, only girl, and he had a pet name for me.   It made me feel special, cherished, seen.  

But it became a symbol of my Dad's betrayal - through sexual abuse and then the verbal abuse that followed when I put a stop to the other.   

He only used that name for me one other time - the day I left home to marry another man.  Instead, other names replaced it - fat, useless, ugly, nuisance.   

So, over the last few months, the Father has been calling out that pet name - during worship, or as I'm waking for the day, often very early in the morning.   And I've hated it and said so, even yelled at Him about it.  

But He is determined.   His love is relentless, like the waves on the shore.   He kept calling, like Jesus calling Peter across the angry waves, like the Shepherd looking for the lost lamb. 

https://catholico.wordpress.com/2016/04/22/i-am-the-good-shepherd-the-good-shepherd-lays-down-his-life-for-the-sheep/

It wasn't about the name, it was about Him restoring and redeeming the concept of me being a daughter with a good Dad.   

A few weeks back, I was struggling with fear, big time.   A friend sent me the story of Jehoshaphat and it was very helpful.  

One of the lines that caught my attention in that story was this: 

........he appointed those who should sing to the Lord, and who should praise the beauty of holiness...............................                        2 Chron 20:21   

One of the strategies that kept me afloat during that time of nearly drowning in fear was hooking into the beauty of His holiness - His otherness, His superiority to me, His infinite power and mercy and understanding.    It was the only thing that gave me hope.  It was like the hook on a dock to stop this ship from sinking.   I knew, in my head, that God was bigger than me, and He reminded me of that with the huge rainbow He showed me.   But my fear was pulling me under.   

For you to move beyond that fear and brokenness, you need a reality that is stronger and deeper than your lived experience.   You need someone to be stronger than you were at the time.  You need someone's truth to be stronger than the lies you were led to believe.   You need a power stronger than the power that damaged you and held you captive.   

And therein lies the beauty of holiness.    There is beauty in Him being perfect, unchangeable, eternal, faithful, almighty, thoroughly good and kind and compassionate.   I hooked into that lifeline.

His character is stronger and deeper than the character of a father who betrayed the trust of his little girl, after all the nice words and promises.

His unwavering and predictable faithfulness is the antidote to my deep distrust.

His power is the answer for my powerlessness to help myself.

His presence is the answer for the deep loneliness that came with the self-protection mechanisms I built.  

His healing balm is stronger and deeper than my wounds. 

His love is the anaesthetic for the deep pain I have felt in recent weeks, as He took me back to that place to heal me.   

His truth is stronger and deeper than the lies I came to believe - about myself, about love, about life and relationships.  

His infinite understanding is deeper and stronger than my ability to analyse and fix and manage.  

The trouble with fear, strong fear, is that it's rooted in trauma - a real, lived experience that has not been resolved and left you damaged.    It's also rooted in lies, lies that have taken hold and become your 'truth'.   

I found myself realising that, having given up the mental strongholds I created to protect myself during the abuse, from both parents, I was now at the mercy of the memories, the pain, the lies believed, the sheer loneliness of having neither self-protect mechanisms, nor  the ability to escape.  

I was at a complete loss for what to do.   I had no strategies left, no way forward, no way out and I was in a world of pain.     We really do have to come to the end of ourselves, eh?

A friend suggested I wait and worship and I knew she was right.  What else can you do?   I think you call that  a sacrifice of praise.    I decided to worship Him - in the beauty of holiness.   I've seen too much of His kindness and goodness to give up on it.   

I knew I needed HIM to do something because I had nothing left.   

And so He came.  He showed up.  I was sitting with a friend - crying, praying, just waiting and He came.

He showed me that I had a deep-seated fear of HIM betraying me, just like Dad had, that Him calling me by that name was going to set me up for more pain and disappointment, and I was holding out on Him.   He sure knows how to expose our deeply-held disbelief.

I was looking for something solid.  I had been relying on me to be that something solid, but I couldn't do it.   I was never meant to.   He IS the something solid.  More than that, He is Someone solid.    

I had a choice - to move out of my secret place into HIS, to be a cherished daughter, again.    

He came and said, "If you're ready, Katie, let's get out of here and not come back, eh?"

It was an invitation to leave that place of pain, but also of self-reliance.  It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, to make that choice, to take the risk and go with Him.  Then I remembered the beauty of His holiness.   In the light of that, the choice is clear enough.   Through tears and pain and confession of unbelief, I held out my hands in surrender.   That word surrender - again.   

And I saw a picture of Him carrying me out of that place through the ceiling - the physical room/house/situation of my childhood - but more than that.  He was taking me out of that stronghold of unbelief and fear, of self-reliance and aloneness and brokenness.   

Let those who fear the Lord now say,

“His mercy endures forever.”

I called on the Lord in distress;

The Lord answered me and set me in a broad place.

The Lord is on my side; I will not fear.  Ps 118:4-6

So now, I will learn to walk in this broad place, with a limp, if necessary, in HIS secret place, to abide in HIS pavilion and to worship Him in the beauty of His holiness, as He reveals it to me, more and more each time I look into His face.  

One thing I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek:

That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,

To behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.

For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion;

In the secret place of His tabernacle He shall hide me;

He shall set me high upon a rock.  Ps 27:4-5

This is a song I've sung and cried again and again over the last few weeks, when I've been at a loss as to what else to do.   

Oh how I need Your grace

More than my words can say

Jesus I come, Jesus I come

In all my weaknesses

You are my confidence

Jesus I come, Jesus I come

I will rise, stand redeemed

Heaven open over me

To Your name eternally

Endless glory I will bring 

Oh what amazing love

Beneath Your cleansing flood

Jesus I come, Jesus I come

In every broken place

You are my righteousness

Jesus I come, Jesus I come

Thank You, Jesus

Just as I am I come

Hallelujah

Oh what amazing love!