Wednesday, January 25, 2012

What's in a Name: Defining Purity in My Life

Rachel Allison Morse
   
   My first memory of realizing the meaning behind my name goes back several years to when I was around 6 or 7. We were in our first duplex in Tyler, and I remember talking to my mom about all the different meanings of names. I remember her saying my sister's name, Amy, means Beloved. My mother's name, Cathy, means pure--and my name, Rachel, means innocent, or little lamb.
   Ever since then, I have loved my name (although I did go through a phase where I though my middle name, Allison, would suit me better). There is something about being called a lamb, which makes my heart erupt in joy . . . although for the longest time I really couldn't tell you why.
   Then, about a year ago, I became obsessed with names.
   I had came across a book called "The Names of God," and as I explored the unending facets of my heavenly Father, I realized how each name He was given relayed a message to me of who He is. Abba Father, Jehovah Jirah, Jehovah Rapha, Lord Adonai, Yeshua, I AM, on and on, continuous, never ending. He is the God of names, who knows the importance of the intrinsic name. Did He not change Abram's name after making the covenant of a chosen nation? (Gen. 17) Abraham: the father of a multitude of nations. There was a deeper identity within Abram that God spoke out and named.
   Jesus was named so to convey a message as well. An angel spoke to Mary the name which the world would soon resound: Jesus, Jehovah saves (Luke 1:31-32).
   So where does little, innocent lamb come in? Am I putting intrinsic value in something my mother simply thought was pretty and my father liked because it spelled out his school mascot?
(Quick back-story, my dad went to the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland, and their mascot was the ram. Rachel Allison Morse . . . R.A.M. . . . RAM)
   As I have begun the process of stripping off worldly identity, my Father has begun identifying the things I  am not defined by: I am not defined by my attitude, I am not defined by my past, I am not defined by my parents, money, background, talent, beauty, abilities, personality, job, organization, friends, a boy--and as these things were stripped off, my true identity began to be made known.
   Rachel, you are my precious one, the one I am enamored with. I see the way I crafted you, and though the world may not see, I AM does. How beautiful is the heart I gave you--how tender I made it. I see what beauty drapes you and I am in awe of my creation. What a beautiful facet of myself you are--you reflect a piece of my glory.
   Just to sit and know the God of the universe thinks this about me is a little intoxicating--I dare you to sit and let Him spill out His love over you.
    So what role does purity play in all this? Pretty much my whole life people have perceived me differently then I perceived myself (isn't that true for everyone?) When then world looked at me and sneered, "naive, pure, too innocent, ignorant, you have never known pain or suffering," I looked and said, "defiled, hurting, ugly, weak, lost, worthless, devalued, unloved." I had the world's defiled purity stamp on my forehead, while inside all I saw was trash.
   But as Jesus drew me deeper into His heart and His love, I couldn't resist shedding the coat of insecurities and drawing on the robe of purity. I am embraced my name--innocent lamb--and let it fuel the fire inside of me. I claim that identity. I claim that no matter what I have done, thought, said, or contemplated, the blood of The Lamb has washed me clean and made me just as innocent before the Father's eyes. That is the purity that I cling to:
   Purity that doesn't make me afraid of what's dirty, but Purity that reminds me that I am already clean.
   That's my identity--my name. Rachel . . . one like the Lamb.

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