For the past few weeks, three verses from my daily devotionals have been echoing in my heart. Of the three, today I am starting with Isaiah 43:1.
Along with this verse, my devotional included a clip from The Chosen, Season 1 episode 1. Mary Magdalene (known as Lilith in the episode) is deeply tormented, possessed by demons, plagued by trauma, and on the brink of destruction. Nothing and no one has been able to help her, including exorcists and religious leaders. She is lost, broken, and living in utter despair.
At the climax of the episode, just as she prepares to drink herself to death, Jesus finds her. She tries to flee, but He gently calls out to her; not by the name others have called her, but by her true name: Mary. Quoting Isaiah 43:1, He says:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name. You are mine.”
At these words, she stops, overwhelmed. Something in her shifts. She turns to Him, tears in her eyes, and He embraces her. In that moment, she is freed from her torment.
The weight of this interaction sat heavy on my heart as I began to press in further to understand its significance. It made me think about the power of being called by name.
What stirs in you when someone speaks your name aloud? Do you feel comfortable or anxious?
Your feelings likely shift depending on who says your name, and how.
I’ve noticed how my own feelings around my name have changed over the years. When I was younger, my name rarely meant anything good. Often, it signaled trouble or a list of chores waiting for me. I’m sure that wasn’t always the case, but those are the moments that stuck with me.
In contrast, when I hear my husband say my name, it sounds unfamiliar, almost strange. He so rarely uses my given name. Most often, he calls me kitten, honey, or sweetheart. When he says my name, I stop and really listen. Soft and unexpected, it’s a sweet sound, one that warms my heart.
The more I think about hearing my name, the more I realize the power isn’t just in how it’s said, but in how it’s felt.
That thought brought me back to when I first met my husband. It was a good old-fashioned blind date. We were introduced through family; my stepsister was dating his best friend.
I remember the first time he called. My mom said, “There’s a Mike on the phone.”
I replied, “I don’t know any Mike.”
She said, “Well, there’s a boy on the phone, and he wants to talk to you.”
Just like that, I was on the phone with a total stranger. Two weeks later, we had our first date.
But what does this have to do with how we hear our own names?
From the beginning, I never called my husband Mike. I’ve always called him Michael. It came so naturally, I didn’t even think about asking what he preferred.
Looking back, I wonder why. Why would I instinctively call someone I just met by their formal name instead of the one they were introduced by?
As we both think back on that experience, ‘Mike’ had been attached to so many negative experiences and became the representation of a label that was not at all his identity.
When we hear our name only in moments of trouble or tension, we can internalize that negativity. Similarly, when we’re given nicknames, especially if they’re mocking or dismissive, even in jest, we may carry those labels as part of our identity, whether we realize it or not.
Mary was called Lilith, and that was people’s way of saying she was sinful, evil, crazy, possessed. It was a label, not who she was at all. When Jesus called her name, it was pure, cleansing, a precious sound announcing her true self.
Mary’s life drastically changed after hearing Jesus call her name. He did more than cast out her demons; He performed a miraculous transformation, restored her identity, and gave her a purpose. She embraced the gift of light and became one of his most dedicated followers. Mary followed Jesus throughout his ministry. Stood at the foot of the cross when He died and was the first person to see Him after the resurrection.
Mary’s story is such an inspiration. It speaks to me about how important learning to hear God’s voice by spending time in his word is. It gives us the ability to recognize when he calls our name and allows us to reclaim who we were meant to be, before we lost our way and our identity.
Names carry more weight than we realize. Names are more than labels; they shape us. They’re how we’re known, for better or worse.
Maybe that’s why names hold so much power: they’re not just sounds, but stories. A name can carry love, pain, memory, or belonging. Maybe names are one of love’s many languages; the way we say: “I see you. I choose you. I know who you are.”
“You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.”
—Psalm 139:1
May you hear His voice today and remember, He knows your story, your wounds, your hopes. And still, He calls you by name. When He calls your name, it’s not with judgment; it’s with gentleness, truth, and love. He calls you as you truly are, not by what the world has labeled you. Not by what you’ve been through. But by who He created you to be.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name. You are mine.” —Isaiah 43:1
God Bless – Your friend, Rho
