Fictional heroine Meg Murry trembles, appalled. Evil Echthroi roam the earth, threatening the lives of all. An angelic mentor declares Meg is a Namer, one who knows who people are meant to be.
“War and hate are [Echthroi] business,” the angel declares, “and one of their chief weapons is un-Naming — making people not know who they are.”
“But what—”
“Meg, when people don’t know who they are, they are open either to being Xed or Named.”
The ensuing dialogue rattles me. Every time Meg judges, disrespects, or despises someone — even silently — she un-names, or “X’s,” that individual. Denigrating their personhood, she dismisses God’s highest vision for them.
She abets enemy goals.
Now I am appalled. When riled, I sometimes forget we are all equally cherished by God — despite diverging ideas, beliefs, and behaviors. Silent slander poisons my thoughts. I mentally conjure black-humor nicknames. My brain scripts ugly retorts.
Am I alone in this?
We may not malign others aloud, yet how often do we cede responses anchored in love to interior libel?
Recent minefields for me include:
- The latest toxic allegations
- So-and-so’s idiotic decisions
- De-humanizing tweets
- Murder, after being asked to wear a mask
10 Praise and curses come from the same mouth. My brothers and sisters, this should not happen!
11 Do clean and polluted water flow out of the same spring? (James 3:9-11, Names of God Bible)
With God as our shared wellspring, how will we Name one another?
I go back to The Manual.
You are God’s child (John 1:12).
You are not condemned (Romans 8: 1-2).
You are a work-in-progress (Philippians 1:6).
You are called by name (Isaiah 43:1b).
You are loved (Colossians 3:12).
Liberal, moderate, or conservative — friends, let us meet again, at the Cross. Let’s begin anew the good work of Naming one another according to God’s truth.
If you wouldn’t mind dipping into your wellspring of wisdom . . .
What helps you bless those who seem like enemies?
Dialogue from A Wind in the Door, by Madeleine L’Engle.
Photo by Senya Zhukavin on Unsplash
Your words are such a refreshment, Laurie. Thank you.
Bethany, thank you! I am reading your words on my birthday, and they are a gift. As are you!
Oh, happy birthday to you, Laurie! I hope you find the day sprinkled with whatever kinds of comfort, rest, and delight most soothe your spirit. You are a light!
Thank you so much! So far it has brimmed over with all your good wishes manifesting in tender ways. Just off now to take in a movie with my beloved of 48 years . . .
Blessings on you, my wordsmith-friend!
Excellent! I’m happy to read this. 🙂 Seems a fitting time to say too, I love that verse you share elsewhere on your site, “[Those] who refresh others will [themselves] be refreshed” (Pr. 11:25).” Bless you, Laurie~
Oh, what a good reminder. That is one of those verses I look to as one would the glancing light piercing a thundercloud, or a vessel of water along a wilderness path. Thank you!
Oh Laurie. Your timing. Yet again!!!
Last week we arrived back on the African continent for the first time since Covid hit. Within 48 hrs our precious 5 year old bundle of Ellie Joy was fighting for her life with a rupturing appendix. We thought we were going to lose her! Not because of her critical illness- but because the quality of medical care, education and training in this country is so desperately poor.
Serving here for the most part of the past 8 years has taught us so much about loving beyond cultural differences and the frustrations of all the ways this country is so very much still “developing”… so much about letting Christ give us His heart of incarnation in the worst conditions. But oh how far I have to go still. When it came to my daughter’s life- I was done. Done loving doctors who know less than I do as a former RN (with only a few years’ experience, and that was over 10 years ago!). Done loving Tanzanians (specifically Emergency Room staff members) who’s favorite national motto is “haraka haraka haina baraka, pole pole ndio mwendo” = “hurry, hurry has no blessing, slow, slow is the way to go”…
or who’s cultural upbringing teaches them to tell someone whatever they want to hear- (36 hrs into the nightmare: “Whatever is wrong with your daughter madam, don’t worry, she’s fine/ it’s definitely not a ruptured appendix”)
I yelled, demanded, and disrespectfully glowered in their faces. I screamed swear words in my head (me, a missionary!?!?) And I begged God to somehow get us back out of this country immediately- even if it meant never coming back…
And now here I am, laying next to my daughter, 24 hrs out of the hospital- fighting hard in prayer that her little tummy with its huge incision won’t get infected. Feeling too exhausted, in every single way, to fight in prayer against my own heart’s infection.
But then I read your words. And they pierced through the black, ugly sin of my anger-my hatred! -that I’d rather just bury.
Father, forgive me. Renew my first love for the least of these, those who’s sons & daughters die of ruptured appendixes and the medical staff never even know what took them, but fatalistically chalk it up to God’s will.
Forgive them, they know not what they know not…
And the healing tears are flowing at last.
Dear, dear Jenell, what a terrifying experience for Ellie Joy and your whole family! What a mercy she is safe. And how blessed she is to have you as her passionate advocate. Mother love can be a desperate force, one that can rattle and even profoundly dismay us — as well as those affected by its force field.
And that love is a gift.
Perhaps an element of culture shock was also in play after your time away? I acutely remember battling unprecedented hatred and rage during my short-term mission experience. Afterward, I was appalled at my behavior: sorry, ashamed, overwhelmed with guilt. How dare I call myself a follower of Christ?
Prayer and tears and confession and apologies helped. Over time, strange as this will sound, I began to view my failure of love as a gift — albeit one allowed by severe mercy. To this day I remain grateful for realizing how easily I can, at any moment, sink lower than I ever imagined possible. I better understand what grace looks like at work in a life, especially mine.
I understand your tears. And I honor your prayer for a return to that “first love.” And I also want to say, move toward it gently. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Fear for one’s child can be volcanic. You would have risked anything for her sake. As God has, for yours.
You are God’s child. You are not condemned. You are loved.
Oh what a balm your words are to wake up to this morning! And I must add- it was “I Love You Lord”that Ellie asked me to sing over and over again to her in the darkest hours in the Emergency Room- a balm to us both! ?
Ah. That is a balm to me as well.
The deepest bow, then, from each of us, toward the Saving One whose love makes ours possible.
Sounds like the perfect map…we just need to follow that road .
I feel better already knowing it’s just that easy …
The simplicity of it gives me hope that Even I can manage it …with his help …
Hectic day today , so something inspiring was extremely welcome …
Simplicity heartens me, too, Larry. Sometimes relationships become so knotted and complex, further snarled by impatience and misunderstanding. Back to the spiritual ABCs I go, chagrined as well as grateful to find my way back into the beautiful pattern Love intends for us all.
May your evening refresh and renew you after the day’s hectic challenges.
Wellspring.
That got my attention.
For the most part, my words have promoted wellness in others.
I thought.
These past many months now have been revelatory in more ways than one.
With this whole wearing of masks I’ve caught myself taking liberties in saying not so “well” things toward some situations and people.
Kinda allowing my heart to whisper.
OOPS.
Besides, my family say I don’t whisper.
The Passion translation of the “manual” arrested me a few years ago…
“So above all, guard the affections of your heart,
for they affect all that you are.
Pay attention to the welfare of your innermost being,
for from there flows the wellspring of life.”
Proverbs 4:23
Nothing can ever be for me, if it isn’t for others.
That includes the wellspring of Jesus.
The 10th leper was told by Jesus, ““Arise, go your way. Your faith has made you well.”
Why?
How?
He was grateful and expressed it.
Expressions of gratitude best reach the heart of God where our number isn’t one.
Not pointing at the nine so too bring attention to only one – me.
Shallowing the depth of our own personal well.
Am I Xing or naming?
Maybe I’m not as well as I thought.
Thankful He doesn’t leave well enough alone.
Two songs echo while I type this.
I’ll include youtube links to let them possibly say more, and my not becoming verbose.
I Wish You Well
Bill Withers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyypsBZCEvw
Walk To The Well
Ashley Cleveland
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZ1gHppK_L0
Bless you.
Thank you.
Rick, I cannot sit still listening to these songs! Truth that walks you to the well, then blesses you every which way. Great tunes. And so encouraging!
I really appreciate reading the Proverbs passage you shared in light of the post. Lord, keep me walking, keep me grateful; keep me blessing, keep me naming. Amen
Your comments and observations and prayers are a gift. Thank you!
ps I am so un-tech, sorry for any confusion while I tried to get the right comment to appear and delete the other one. Good to stretch the ole brain . . . : )
I truly appreciate and love your words.
Dear Michelle, thank you so much. Blessings on you!
I agree with Anna, below. Prayer is most helpful for me too. As I lift up the other person(s), God softens my heart and helps me become more objective in my view of the situation. Also beneficial is praying for myself, that I grow in compassion and understanding for this person, and sincerely desire what’s best for him/her. An overhaul of my emotions rarely happens quickly; it develops over time. But every inch of progress means less frustration, less stress, less hurt. The journey through prayer is well worth it!
Nancy, that’s often been my experience as well, a “gentling” of my peevish thoughts so I can see a little more clearly. In thinking about your words, I flashed on my father’s cupped palm, smoothing back the spiky fins of a fish he’d caught so he could work the hook loose.
I too want to desire what’s best for the person. Inch by inch, here’s to those gradual overhauls God extends . . .
Well said. Xed or Named–it is not only people who do this. Circumstances of life make us believe we are or have been Xed or Named. Where I am in life has been given to me–I did not choose most of it. It is my gift. I operate within it. Everyone does this. And everyone everyone everyone has hard things. Though I may want to judge your gifts and hard things against mine or blame you for seeming to have an easier life and more sunshine, I try and think of it as our commonality. Gifts and hard things.
When this is difficult I think of a mother in labor. A HARD THING. And the baby. A GIFT. I think how fast the pain fades as she gazes into the gift. When I think of someone as a baby with a mother such as this it is easy to be in naming mode rather than plotting to X someone.
Inequality presses us to think having the same will make us equal. What makes us equal is recognizing that we all have been given gifts and we all have hard things. What mends inequality is celebrating each other’s gifts and helping with the hard things.
I am so arrested by this focus on commonality amid challenges over the oh-so-human tendency to feel competitive. So well said!
Also, the mother/child image really resonates with me today. I was reading about what pure hope looks like in a believer’s life this morning, and the author used the same imagery in surprising ways. to make his point.
I’m definitely going to picture the next prickly situation with this tender framing!
I love this: “What mends inequality is celebrating each other’s gifts and helping with the hard things.”
Thank you, dear friend.
Beautiful and true. What helps me most is prayer. Lifting up laments and listening for God’s heart of love rising in me.
Today, that looked like me lifting up the deep pain in my heart at watching hate being incited in the name of love. I wanted to point my finger and hate a sister in Christ, but God asked me to unclench my hands and release her heart into His hands.
As I did so, my pain turned into a longing for her to know Jesus in His death and resurrection. I prayed blessings over her and over another person from my past God had had me release years earlier. Such a sweet knowing of His Presence in my midst swept over me.
“Lifting up laments” — it is so encouraging to read those words.
I too get snagged by reactionary finger-pointing moments. I really appreciate what you describe: “… but God asked me to unclench my hands and release her heart into His hands.”
A visual picture is always so instructive for me, and this is a beauty.
Rejoicing with you for these transformative experiences you describe. Thank you.