Holy Care for the Whole Self預覽

Names Matter

When you don’t know the name for something, the truth gets complicated. If my husband says, “Let’s go to that Italian restaurant we love,” I might picture Via Vite, the trendy Italian spot with an outdoor patio overlooking downtown. Brett might be referring to Nicola’s, the cozy restaurant with an outdoor courtyard covered in twisty vines and tiny fairy lights. We love both scrumptious spots, but they are not the same. By not using the name of “that Italian restaurant we love,” there could be confusion. I might meet my husband at the wrong spot or make a reservation at the wrong restaurant. Names matter. They help us understand who or what we’re talking about.

This holds true when naming our mental health issues.

My friend Sharee was in a horrible car accident and struggled ever since with both a fear of dying and anxiety while driving, including panic attacks. Sharee knew something was wrong but didn’t connect the dots until she was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Once she had a name for what was happening, she could seek the correct treatment and eventually heal so she could comfortably drive and live again without fear.

Naming our situations can be super helpful, just like naming poison ivy or a sunburn helps us soothe our red itchy arm. One you moisturize. One you dry out. If you don’t know the name of what you’re dealing with, you could actually make it worse. Knowing the name for sunburn or a poison ivy rash gives you the power to know what to do and how to handle things—both in the moment and in case your body gets that same uncomfortable red sensation again. Similarly, naming our mental health struggles helps us know how to treat and respond to what’s happening in our minds and bodies. It can direct us to Bible passages that address certain issues, friends who have been through similar situations, and resources that discuss and provide solutions for our struggles.

Keep in mind that naming a mental health struggle is not the same as naming ourselves. Sharee is not trauma or PTSD. Just like if you have poison ivy, you aren’t poison ivy. You also aren’t depression or anxiety or OCD or addiction or any other malady. You are still you.

Even more important than knowing the name of our struggle is knowing our name. The name God Himself gives us.

You and I, no matter what we’ve experienced or are struggling with, are chosen by God. Handpicked. God knows our thoughts and actions, and after seeing us at our best and worst, says, “You over there with the scars on your wrists. You with the secret you don’t want anyone to know. I choose you. I want to be with you always.”

We are royal. Maybe not with flowing robes and people obeying our orders, but worthy of the beauty and riches God offers—not gold and jewels, but life and love everlasting, healing and wholeness that are priceless.

We are holy. Yes, even despite everything we’ve been exposed to or attempted or been addicted to. When Jesus died on the cross, He took all our sins. And He didn’t just clear our slates; He elevated our status beyond what we could ever deserve.

We are God’s special possessions. Think of your favorite possession—a family heirloom, a letter from someone you love, your most expensive piece of jewelry. Where do you keep it? How do you treat it? How much value do you put on it? That’s how God sees you. Priceless.

You are a child of God. You have received Christ’s mercy. Nothing can change that—not a relapse, attack, trigger, or episode. You will always be God’s beloved child. His mercy is available to you forever.

This is the truth of who you are. This is your real name. Child of God.

Names matter.

When we don’t have a name for a mental health struggle we’re battling, it’s so much harder to know how to handle it. With names for our issues and ailments, we can seek help, gather the correct tools, start the healing process, continue to grow, and move forward. And when we understand our true names—Chosen, Royal, Holy, Special, Child of God—it changes everything.