A couple weeks ago my agent told me she was rereading Waking the Dead: The Glory of a Heart Fully Alive. Familiar with John Eldredge’s book, Wild at Heart, I listened with great interest. Diana told me about the part in his book where John asks the Father to reveal who he is and what God calls him. But when he later hears something, he questions it. None of it seemed to make sense.
The moment Diana told me this story and before I heard what God called John, a voice whispered, Beloved. At the time I thought, God’s calling me Beloved? That’s my name? Well, I made that up.
Later that morning, I sat in the warmth of the sun and my thoughts ran like this. Amy’s name meant beloved. Why would God call me after my stillborn daughter’s name? Made no sense. Couldn’t be true. I must have imagined I heard God speak—and that? Pathetic. Wonder how often I think He’s speaking to me when it’s just my own voice? And again, I heard, Beloved.
Two days passed, and the answer surfaced as crisp and visible as the frozen frost on the grass outside my window. Amy lived inside me. She never moved or took a breath on her own once she passed from me. So how could my love for her have been so consuming? Why did I mourn with such great loss? She did nothing in this world outside of me. Not a single thing.
And there? The answer. How is it a mother of an unborn child can love the unseen in her womb with intensity and yearning? The love a mother feels cannot be explained. It just is. Love is a mixture of hopes and dreams and potential as bright and fresh as life itself.
A mother shares an inseparable bond with her infant, one that forges and shapes the present and the future. That child will be her baby for the rest of her life.
And me? Why does He call me, Beloved? I don’t do a thing. Not a single thing to gain His love. My parent and creator loves me freely and without condition. It’s an innate bond.
I bought Waking the Dead, and I read word for word John’s account of what happened in the mountains that day.
“It started raining about ten minutes later, and the wind really whipped up as we climbed above the tree line. All was wetness and heather and rock and crag… and I was loving it. It reminded me of the Scottish Highlands in Braveheart; I felt I was hiking in a mythic reality. Then I remembered the day’s mission, and I began to ask God one of the most important questions any of us will ever ask: What do you think of me, God? Who am I to you? The guys were strung out over a mile or two along the trail by now, and I was alone and just reaching the pass.
You are my Wallace.
Something in my heart sank. Yes sank. Good Grief John—look at you. You’re pathetic. You’re making up the voice of God. Filling in the blanks. Cooking up what you’d want Him to say to you.”
Later when John least expects it, God questions him during an intimate moment. God ask s him, what do you love? His answer was the wildness of the hike—the wind and the rain—leading the band of men. What else did John love? Seeing people set free. The book goes on to say that John sat in silence, then He heard God say…
“Are you convinced?”
God asked John questions that allowed his heart to open in truth. He couldn’t deny what God had spoken, could he? God revealed.
Friends, your name may be different from mine. Perhaps you’ll ask God what He calls you and doubt when He answers, but remember—He wants you to know intimate things. He wants to lead you. He wants you to fulfill your destiny. So, why would He hide information from you?
What does Beloved mean to me? Because I am loved by my Father, I value people. And, I have an assignment—one which tells you God can and will speak to you. In this life. On this planet. He yearns for you.
Your potential in this life is unleashed when you realize His focused, unrelenting love and accept Jesus as the portal of His grace. Just as my daughter was fully part of me in the womb, you are fully part of your Creator. His heart, pregnant with you, pulsed and brought you forth from your mother’s womb. His design for you? He wants you to be His forever.
Listen for His Whispers