No Sweeter Name

I just want to take a minute to reflect on a name.

It's a name that many ridicule.
A name that some may roll their eyes when hearing.
A name that, while bitter on the lips of the world, tastes so sweet when you use it properly.

It's a name that means King.
A name that redeems.
A name that even in my lowest moments, makes me take a breath again.

It's a name that saves.

It is a name that is capitalized and even put in red in a certain book.

It is a name that can be taken in vain.

It is a name that teaches, disciplines and replenishes.

It is a name that is breath, death, life and resurrection.

A name that displays grace, mercy, power, love and above all else...

A name that... is just a name until you know what it means.

Jesus.

"so teach us to number our days, that we may grow in wisdom."

Teach me to number my days so that I may learn from You always.

Names mean a lot to me. I connect them to ones I know.

Names can mean love, adoration, inspiration - even - pain, hurt, sorrow.

But names are nothing without a connection.

My children will have strong names. But it will be up to me as a mother, my husband as the father and God as the King and the child his/herself to give that name a meaning from the time they are born.

But no matter what name I give my son, or I give my daughter, for example a name from the Bible, they will never be that particular person.

Why do we name our children after the ones before us?
Because of the qualities they possessed.

Just because a name is capitalized, bold, italicized, underlined, said a million times, rebuked, praised...

known...

Does not make that person a name.

There is power behind names.

You know what I love about Jesus the most?

Well, I can't say the most, because that would be a lie.
I love everything about Him honestly.

*cue eye roll*

Jesus came not to be served, but to serve.

And to do it without expectation of return.

Oh Jesus, that I may live my life like that.

Think about it, Jesus was anticipated. He was known from before his birth by more than just Mary and Joseph.

Many people in the time of his life as a human in the flesh had the same name.

But that same name did not mean the same thing.

Also in this time, women were not of significance in His particular culture.

Yet, Jesus did not come to perform miracles for men, but for the world.

Because of the way JESUS treated the women in His culture, people began to see women differently.

It wasn't Jesus standing on a podium demanding that certain laws and decrees would be abolished, it was how He loved on a daily basis.

He changed the atmosphere, one day at a time, by being consistent.

Jesus did not change the world around Him with His words, but with the actions that, even when the words failed to be enough for some, made the unbelievers see what they were hearing, and hear what they had been listening to.

Rob Bell once did a sermon study on the name Yahweh.

The most interesting thing about this name, is the way the people said it.

They removed the vowels, thus creating a name that was literally breaths of air every syllable.

How sweet...

Jesus was not given a name in order to breathe life, but the name itself became the breath of life.

Jesus has many names, heck there was a book written of the A-Z names given for Him within the Bible.

But in the midst of all of His names, there is one meaning. Eternity.

In the Bible, there is a woman who busts in the door of the house Jesus was staying, and without a word breaks to her knees and uses her hair to rub perfume on His feet.

"Ewww...."

No, you see... she had a name. She was known by a name that was given to her long ago. She didn't choose it. But in this act, she chose a different name. She chose to submit to His power, His love, His mercy...She had faith in Him.

You know what the title of her story is in the Bible?

Wordless Worship of an Unnamed Woman.

I love this.

Stick with me, I know there are a lot of names being thrown around here...

Earthly names rolling off the tongue will never be as sweet as His.

Why?

Because we do not save. We do not heal. We do not redeem.

He does. Through us.

And through our actions, that is when His name is either praised, or defiled.

When we die, we cannot say anything else to the people around us. But our actions will have lasting impact.

Now I am a firm believer that words are important, trust me, it's one of my top love languages.

And even the scriptures declare the "tongue hath the power of life and death."

So this does not mean that we can throw around words like they are nothing. What if our words were glass? Treat them as such.

But words must be followed with actions.
I look in the mirror when saying this.

When I was baptized, I took on a new name.

My name is Whitney, as most of you know.
And yes, I was named after Whitney Houston.
Thanks mom and dad.
Also...

The name Whitney means White Island.

Now, if I lived out where my name originated or the definition it has been given by default, honestly... where would that get me?

I think it's pretty obvious.

But I have a new name now.

It's God's daughter.

When i worship, pray, serve...
No one needs to see me, no one needs to hear me.

Sounds hypocritical because of social media and obviously my blog, but please don't get me wrong.. It is necessary to share what God does through you, not what you do through God.

"What do you mean?"

Anyone can say words. Few can show it.

Take the wedding band for example.
It is actually a symbol that was started by the pagan gods.

Now, do I believe in wedding bands? Yes, of course. It is a symbol of an unconditional love commitment.

But, I want to have a marriage where if we took off our wedding bands for some reason, we would still have a marriage that lit the darkness. No jealousy, no doubt, no fear, no shame..

Those wedding bands do not bind us.

If I had my name taken away, I would still want to be a being that lit the darkness no matter what i was labeled, or.. the lack there of.

My name does not bind me.

Your name does not bind you.

His name frees us.

God and man is a marriage.
Two humans coming together for the greater glory is a team.
A team that fist bumps and says alright, because of the God in you and the God in me who are the same, we're going to let Him lead us, and be HIS hands and feet together so that we may put 10,000 to flight instead of 1,000 alone.

If you believe in Christ, and do not understand a marriage with Him first and foremost, you will not ever grasp marriage with the treasure He has given you to help you through this temporary life.

It's easy to walk with two feet, but learning to run with four is a whole other ball game.

God does not need you to want Him. He wants you to need Him.

I pray to lose my name, so that His is all people see, hear, feel...

Know.


"I would rather approach the Throne someday bloody, beaten, bruised and nearly forgotten having done all I could do to advance the Kingdom up until my last breath, rather than primped, pressed and ready to impress with a resume of all the good things I have done. That is ministry."

There is No Sweeter Name.

Breathe In Heaven

Setting: Church pew. 2nd row from the back. left corner.

You sit there.

Back hunched over with your head in your hands...

Just trying to make it through.

You're there for the family.

You're caught in a moment of reality

where you realize, you're not nine anymore.

you take a deep breath in.

Your life becomes a wirlwind.

All of the sudden you're asking yourself...

"what the hell am i doing here?"

....

Ten years later, the world is telling you

you should have a plan. Everything should be set.

The only thing missing is that precious piece of paper.

That's how life goes right?

Elementary school where you have your first love

and the only arguments you really need to worry

about are between your mom and the mom of the girl

who was mean to you at recess yesterday.

Middle school where you don't find love because you're

either the girl who needs to go down ten shades in foundation

or the girl who probably needs to start wearing foundation

or the boy who keeps an axe bottle in the top of his locker and "refreshes" between every class

or the boy who needs to discover an axe bottle.

Freshman year where you start to think you are the bees knees when really no one likes you.

Sophomore year where you just don't really care about anything.

Junior year where you start to worry about your reputation and can't seem to go a day without drama or 15 hours of homework.

Senior year where you could give a crap what anyone says about you because you know who your friends are and you're sticking with them like a baby blanket you can't go anywhere without and you want to graduate but are scared to death at the same time.

College where you actually become the individual you thought you were in high school and discover everyone is on different tracks and the topic of every conversation with your friend's parents or parent's friends is "what's your major?" in which you consistently answer ... "good question."

Career where your hobby becomes a pain and after awhile you're there for the money and because you can't see yourself anywhere else.

Family where you settle down with the one you can't live without and have a life with them while the world is telling you there is a 50% chance of you all making it together.

Retirement where you spend all your money on matching salmon-colored shirts and golf visors and trips to all the places you ever wanted to go.

Death where you reach heaven and all is well.

Right? I mean...that's what culture tells us.

What if you don't know?

What if...God forbid....you don't want that?

Then what? What does life have to offer you?

After all...we're all going to end up in the same place right?

Well, I'm going to let you answer that question for yourself.

But my answer is...if that were the case, what would be the point of it all?

breathe in.

What did you feel?

"Uhm...oxygen entering my lungs..."

Ok...but do you feel any better?

Why do, when you're stressed out, people always tell you to breathe in?

Well, I guarantee God isn't always the answer.

But the general answer is, to relax. To feel okay with the current situation.

To calm down.

Let me describe it to you this way.


I know talking about fire and brimstone is pretty "taboo" these days, but let's be real with each other.

Hell is made with fire.
Heaven is the most peaceful place you will ever experience.

You've heard of second hand smoke right?
When you decide to listen to the enemy and follow him, that's what you're exposing yourself to.
It is slowly killing you.
It will feel good for the moment, but in the end it will be slow and painful.
You are allowing yourself to breathe that in.

Genesis 2:7 "And the Lord God formed man of dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life..."

i had this verse tattooed on me a year ago, because I'm super edgy like that. it says "breathe into me" with heartbeat lines on either side of it. It's symbolizing that it's never to late to have New Life breathed into your body. I know I need that reminder. (can i get an Amen .. holla!) 

(credits to Rob Bell)

When you take a breath...you are breathing in the world around you.

When you take a breath...you are proving death wrong.

When you take a breath...you are breathing in the one who created you.

Every time you choose to breathe in heaven, you are spitting in the Devil's face.

How cool is that?

i understand this statement is controversial, but to me...

without God, I have no hope.

without God, I have no strength.

without God, I have nothing.

I might as well be lifeless.

But when I breathe in...

my chaotic mess of a life becomes...clear.

No, it doesn't always solve itself, but I know eventually...

I'm going to get somewhere.

Even if you are homeless, if you are breathing in, you have a purpose.

Life takes on a whole new meaning.

There are times when the world seems so much heavier than you.

And you don't want to do anything to anger it, because it will crush you.

There were times when I thought depression was going to kill me. Literally.

There have been times when I have gone through a heartbreak or death that is so painful you feel as if though you cannot breathe.

But what happens when you learn that the world does not hold

the key to your life?

What happens when you realize, you have more of a purpose than to be a clone of the American Dream?

Yes, it's not going to be easy. And sometimes, that lifestyle is what you are called to, simply because it works out that way.

But we need not to be scared of change. Of difference. Of a with fresh air. 

As I have said many times before...

I am nowhere near perfect.

I am not the best friend anyone could ask for.

I will always disappoint someone.

But people...we are not living for other each other.

And we are also not living for ourselves.

If you have faith that the Savior rescued you and is your hope, strength, light...

Yes..

"what the hell are we doing?"
quit giving hell so much credit for your life. 

Guess what...No one is ever going to live up to your standards.

And most likely in this culture, you won't ever be enough either.

But to Him, you will always be enough. you have always been enough,

That's the cliche we can all cling to, and have since we sat in sunday school with our Limited Too skirts and sequenced tops or khaki pants with a white button down and the dreaded clip-on tie your parents said made you look honorable.

I'm not here to argue that what we do on earth does not reflect the outcome of our death.

But if you were baptized

you weren't just being dropped in water by a man just to go on with your natural life.

Ever notice how you hold your breath when you go under?

You're not breathing in the world anymore.

you are getting soaked in a tub of renewal and given new lungs. lungs that do not belong to you.

God never promised that things would always be easy.

He promised that you would always be tested.

But He also promised that life with Him would be much much sweeter.

Setting: Church pew. 2nd row from back. left corner.

Some things in your life may never change.

But it doesn't mean the way you go about them never will.

If you breathe in the world, it's going to stick like mucous on your lungs.

Life would be a lot easier if you had someone else breathing for you, wouldn't it?

The world is not always right. But you may always be the only one who believes that.

Are you prepared to stand up?

just take a deep breath in. his lungs are a lot bigger than yours. and you may not get the chance to tomorrow.

you have two choices in life.

you can breathe in fresh air.
or you can breathe in smoke.

--you have to decide what you want to prove every time you take a breath--

breathe in heaven.

Love,

Whit ♥

DeFEETed

For the ones who feel like giving up is the best option.

Can i ask you a question?

What is it that keeps you from thinking the Bible isn't about you?

*you roll eyes and click Facebook tab*

Don't run. I'm not going to preach at you. Just stick with me.

I am a normal, 21 year old girl trying to figure out this life thing, as I'm sure you are as well. Except possibly the 21 year old girl part.

It baffles me, really. The fact that in such a selfish world as ours, hardly anyone believes the Bible to be a story of their lives. A story written for them, about them.

Growing up in church and Christian school, the Bible was (thankfully, no sarcasm) shoved down my throat. Regularly.

Can i be honest? Bible class was my least favorite subject. I never disciplined myself to retain that kind of information. The things I was taught, the maps I drew, the tests I took, the scriptures I memorized on a weekly basis.

I never got it.

It was boring and it all sounded the same to me.

There were times I wanted to stand up and shout, "I got it! OK?! I understand. Adam and Eve screwed up, the Israelites were chosen, Moses heard the bush talk, Jonah somehow got swallowed by the whale and spit back out, Noah built an ark, David killed Goliath, Esther was brave, Jesus came to earth, was it God or Jesus? Or all three? Or one of them? Or are they the same? Whatever, he came down, he lived, he died, he rose, Matthew Mark Luke and John talked about it, Paul preached it, there's something about love, I can list 5 verses even non-Christians know, and in the end, the non believers will die a horrible death and there's something about a multi-headed creature and many metaphors I know we've talked about a million times, but I still don't understand. And here I am, living in the modern world, a slave to my thoughts, Becky told Sue I was a brat yesterday, I know because she made sure to say it as I walked by her locker, John doesn't like me because, of course, Riley always gets what she wants, I have a huge test on Friday that, if I fail, will result in my exile for at least a month and somehow I have to fill up my gas tank today in order to get to work. Oh, and don't even get me started about the drama at work."

The only time I ever cracked a Bible was for class, or to give the appearance of being super spiritual, or to find a really cool verse to draw on my wrist as a fake tattoo because ink poisoning was a myth and I was obviously invincible.

You know, for all those years I listen just enough to pass the tests. But I rarely heard anything.

There was a night in my life that I had just had enough. I was a typical hormonal teenage girl with issues. I knew everyone hated me and I knew there was no purpose for me here. My parents hated me (sarcasm) and i hated them (only sometimes) I wanted to hang out with my friends but I also didn't feel like being social. I was too cool at home and not cool enough at school. I had a million different dreams in mind and not two of them were even slightly related. I could really write a whole novel on just this topic.

But one night, I was laying on my floor. Crying about something. As usual. But this particular night, I was just done. I didn't want to do it anymore. I had reached the end of my rope.

I was laying on a body pillow crying so hard that my throat hurt. Good thing I never wore makeup because that was a goner.

I grew up in a conservative family and a liberal setting of extra curricular activities. I was always involved in something. But while my morals were set, my views weren't. Weird huh?

I knew the Bible. I knew the logistics. I also knew what the world had to offer and how much "better" it was than sitting in a coffee shop reading a 2,000 year old book I had no interest in about people in a desert.

While the things of the world didn't tempt me until college, I still had this whole Angel/Devil thing going on in my brain. Confused the heck out of me.

Stay with me. I'm gettin' there. It gets good, I promise.

So i was laying on this body pillow when my body reached its limit of tear production in an hour and I practically drained of fluids. More than half our body is made up of water, and I was on E. Below E. Not a good feeling.

So I passed out.

I had this vision. Now, I don't normally tell people this. Because we live in a society that believes you should be free to believe what you want to believe, but what you believe is wrong and stupid and you should really come up with something else to believe in.

No wonder the world has so many identity issues. We don't even know who we are as a country anymore.

Anyways, so I was passed out and all of the sudden I was dressed in a robe and head dress. Just like they wore 2,000 years ago. I was out of breath, panting, face down in the dirt trying to find the strength to pull myself up. There were people all around me pointing at me and screaming "UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN! Get her out of here!" I looked up and it took a minute for my eyes to focus because it was so bright. When all of the sudden I was getting trampled by a crowd of people walking together the same direction I was apparently headed before I hit the ground. I looked up and just before he passed there was a man ahead of me that people were talking about. I didn't know who he was, but I did at the same time. I yelled his name at the top of my lungs. But it was as if no noise was coming out of my mouth. I was sweating I was yelling so hard. And then everything became slow motion. All I could hear was my breath and the stomping of his feet. I reached out and couldn't move faster than slow motion. I touched his robe. I knew I was healed but I hid from him. I saw him turn around and I crossed my arms in the dirt in front of me and laid my head on top of them, burying my face, when suddenly I felt a hand. I got such a wave of peace through my body, I finally understood what people meant when they say "I think I've died and gone to heaven."

Still slow motion, all I could hear was my breath and his whisper. He grabbed the side of my face and pulled it up. I noticed he had gotten down to my eye level so I didn't have to do much work to see him. I woke up.

A few weeks later I had a breakthrough moment in worship on a church trip in which I had been completely unresponsive to the whole week. While others were crying, I was yawning.

The pastor told us to pray and ask God for a word to end the statement "He is," and then go back to the back of the room and write it on the provided chalk board walls. I wasn't havin' it.

God thought differently.

My knees were broken out from under me and I fell to the floor. My world became slow motion again. Being an actress, the whole slow motion thing adds a lot more drama, I guess that's why I felt it so much.

I was rocking back and forth with my hands on the back of my head when I heard "Whitney, Whitney. Whitney. He is here. He is here. He is here."

My Bible fell on the floor and opened to a story, much to my surprise.

You ready for this?

In Mark, I read of a woman who had been having issues for 12 years and everytime she were to show herself in public, she was to yell "Unclean!" She was face down in the dirt when she reached out to touch Jesus' cloak as He walked by. Jesus turned around and noticed her. He got down to her level to see who she was. Women in that time did not show their faces. She was healed. Forever.

"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go now and be freed from your sufferings."

God knew.

All along, He knew.

I'm sure I had listened that story in the past, but I had never heard it. Until now.

The Bible was written for you, about you. And about a God who is bigger than anything you think you can or can't do. And then some.

He knows. He knew a long time ago.

"When you think you've reached the end of your rope, you've touched the hem of His garment."

Don't give up.

Just because you may have been knocked off your feet, deFEETed, you have not been defeated.

He loves you.

All my love,
Whit