I can't believe I didn't post this before. I don't know why I didn't. It's an old revelation. From back in October. Maybe I thought it was just too personal. But I figure it's time to let you know about it.
This is yet another revelation stemming from my time in small group. We were studying breath prayer that week. The most commonly known breath prayer is the Jesus Prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." It is a prayer meant to be said repeatedly in rhythm with your breath so that it eventually seeps into your spirit and becomes a part of you. It's mostly used in Eastern Orthodox circles and was made famous in The Way of a Pilgrim, a spiritual classic of the Russian Orthodox tradition.
We had spent a week studying breath prayer and crafting our own prayers with the following format:
Breathe in --> a name for God and a description of God
Breathe out --> a desire and a description of myself
Shortened versions of breath prayer are just a name for God and a desire. For example, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me," or "Breath of God, breathe on me," or "Almighty God, give me strength," etc. You get the idea.
In small group, we were given a period of silence for us to each have a conversation with God. We were to tell God what our name was and to ask what He calls us. Maybe this is a little mushy and strange, and maybe that's why I haven't shared it until now. But here is the conversation I had with God, written in a sort of poem/psalm form because that's how it felt, and "selah" seemed the best way to notate pauses that were full of the Spirit. So without further ado, my conversation with God...
He asks, "What is your name?"
I answer, "My name is Broken."
He asks, "Who broke you?"
I answer, "I think You did...
..."
And we wait.
I ask, "Is that okay to say?"
He answers, "Yes, that's okay to say."
Selah
He says, "That is not what I call you."
He asks, "May I give you a new name?"
I answer, "I would like to hear it."
Then we dance.
I breathe in, "Namer of the stars,"
I breathe out, "What do You call me?"
He breathes a name, "Beloved."
I answer, "That is not enough.
No, I am not Beloved."
I breathe in, "Namer of the stars,"
I breathe out, "What do You call me?"
He breathes a name, "Beauty."
I answer, "I understand Your meaning,
But no, I am surely not Beauty."
I breathe in, "Namer of the stars,"
I breathe out, "What do You call me?"
He breathes a name, "Depths."
I answer, "There is sadness there.
No, I am not Depths."
I breathe in, "Namer of the stars,"
I breathe out, "What do you call me?"
He breathes a name, "Light."
Selah
He continues, "You name is Light
because your Light has not gone out.
What you think you've lost
You have not lost."
Selah
I receive, "Thank You for my name.
Yes, my name is Light."
And we wait.
I ask, "What is Your name?"
He answers, "My name is Warmth."
Selah
He continues, "I am what you need
To feel safe and loved and happy."
I confirm, "Yes, that is true."
He continues, "But My name is more.
My name is a covenant with you.
Warmth will fan the flame of Light,
And I will restore your fire.
If you will absorb My Warmth,
Then you will burn brighter,
Radiating my Warmth through your Light."
Selah
I don't pretend to understand the physics of this conversation. It wasn't a "voice from heaven" sort of deal. And it wasn't me making up God's script, filling in what I expected or wanted him to say. It was more like a stirring in my heart. I would ask, and He would answer. And I knew it was Him. Without question, without striving, without conjuring. He was just there with me, speaking to me. I don't know why I feel the need to say that this is not my normal experience. I don't know why I feel compelled to disclaimer this into insignificance. The simple truth is that God gave me a gift. He gave me a name. When I felt like I was withering, He encouraged me and renewed my strength.
"A bruised reed He will not break.
And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish." -Isaiah 42:3
That weekend was my church's women's retreat at a convent in Biddeford, Maine. As I walked into out meeting room, I noticed a painting on the wall of the order's foundress, Marie Rivier.
I asked the nun in the gift shop if they had any postcards or prints of the painting, and she said she would check. On the last morning of the retreat, she gave me a postcard she had found of the picture. I framed it, and it sits on my craft table as a reminder of the name--the gift--that God gave me and His promise to sustain my light with His warmth.
