Her name is Janice.
Who? The homeless woman who lives in the alley across the street from my work. She has a cart and a small suitcase always by her side. She always sleeps sitting up - at least anytime I see her.
I've taken her a bag of water and some snacks once. I pray for her a lot.
Until yesterday, I'd only spoken to her once - the time I dropped off the water and snacks. I told her my name and asked her hers. She spoke it quietly, barely above a whisper.
Yesterday I saw her standing at the end of the alley rather than sleeping in the back of it. I dug through my purse and pulled out two fives. I unrolled my window and drove up to her at the alley.
I called her name to get her to come to me.
Her head shot up and she just stared at me. She seemed shocked to be called that or that I remembered her.
Then she came to me and we talked and I handed her the money.
A few seconds after she left my car, I heard the manager of another local business call her by her name and ask how she was.
Two things there: made me feel better that others knew her name and cared about her AND that he took time to know her name, too.
Names are powerful things. They are our identifiers. They were given to us at our births (or soon thereafter). They are constant companions. They are yours. When all else changes in your life, your name is the one thing you continue to hold onto.
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. (Isaiah 43:1b)
I've been reading the final book in a series by Charles Martin called The Record Keeper. The books tells an amazing tale of strength, purpose, and hope in the most depraved situations, those being (in)humanly trafficked. Here is just one page of so many that I could have shown you where the author pens so beautifully how important being known is...the value and importance of that name.
Another quote is: We didn't know who we were, and more importantly, we didn't whose we were - forever proving that identity precedes purpose. You can't know who you are until you've settled whose you are.
Wow.
Whose are you?
I'll tell you who I am. I'm the daughter of Rene' and Debbie Escalante; the sister to Michelle, Roberto, and Michael; the aunt to Lucas, Logan, Roberto (Bubba), Nathaniel, and Patrick; a great-aunt to Giavana; a friend to many; the granddaughter to Carol and adopted granddaughter to Vivian and Teresa; the niece to Juan, Minerva, Roberto, Adrian, and Sara; and a cousin to many. I am a writer, a decorator, an assistant, a neurotic cleaner, an avid reader.
But, there is One of whom I am His. I am the daughter of the King. A sinner saved by grace. A woman whose Savior loves her and reaches His hand out to her daily to remind her that she is HIS.
Because I know WHOSE I am, I can find purpose in WHO I am.
I'll ask again, whose are you? If you're unsure or struggling, oh, please let me pray with you. It would be my honor.
Comments
Post a Comment