whats in a name

07 Oct


That is NOT true.

That is NOT who I am.

When did you develop the skills to say who you were? When were you named? Not the name people have always called you. The named as in the identifier of who you are, what potential you have. The named as in the name you would shout from the mountain top. The named as in what you would scream like Spartacus, “I AM SPARTACUS.”

Who named you?

Do you still call yourself that name? Are you living your Spartacus?

I grew up hiding from myself. I wasn’t sure that I trusted myself to be who I was. I remember a time as a teenager. My Dad and I were going to the mechanic. He said he was glad he was taking me, because I could blend in with anyone. I was a chameleon, he said. I enjoyed thinking of myself as everything rather than nothing. Unfortunately, I got lost in the lie.

I wanted so desperately to shout my name from the mountain tops. I wanted to scream like Braveheart. I wanted to risk everything to cling to my name. But I was afraid. What if I wasn’t liked? What if I failed?

I walked down the 13 steps into a church basement. I was scared to death. I knew I had hit rock bottom. I couldn’t speak in sentences. I was shaky. MY stomach churned constantly. I had a headache all the time. I was 40 pounds overweight.

That’s not me. I screamed in my head. Please let me live.

In that basement, I began the process of shedding the chameleon skin. I peeled the face first and began to breath, gasping for air. I swallowed in gulps of life. I felt the cool air and knew I wanted more. I peeled the legs and began to walk on my own feet. I begged for direction and strength. I peeled the hands and began to work and tool the gifts I was given. I peeled the head and thought for myself. I had original thoughts and knew that they weren’t perfect, and didn’t need to be. I peeled the chest. I felt emotions.

I began to hear my name. “Story-teller” “Care-er” “Explainer” “Word smith” “Encourager” “Silas”. I found that I was motivated and optimistic. I found I had insight, wisdom, and humor. I began to like my imperfection.

Some around me didn’t like it. They struggled with the change. They didn’t like the imperfection. They didn’t like me being honest about strengths and weaknesses. Subtly, they demanded I return to the pre-basement guy. IT wasn’t mean or even deliberate, but I got reminders frequently about “That’s how you are.” or “I assumed you would say/feel/do that because that’s how you always did before.”

NO, THATS NOT ME. I want to grow. I want to learn. I want to change. I want to soar. I want to yell from the mountain top. And I will.

I am named

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Posted by on October 7, 2013 in journey, life


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