What's my name again?

Hello again! Today, ladies and gentlemen, we will be talking about one of the most common questions that gets asked everyday: what's your name?

Names hold more value than we give them credit for. Most parents take a lot of time and effort deciding what to name their child.  Heck, it took me a week just to name my dog!   But a name holds a special importance.. Baby name dictionaries give meanings for this name and that name, being named after a relative is a high honor, and some names even are believed to shape a person's personality!  

I like my name a lot and frankly, without tooting my own horn here, I feel it matches who I've been my whole life.  Emily; hard worker.  (P.S. I totally recommend looking up your name, too!  Although it's kinda besides the actual point of this post, it's still really fun!)

As I've mentioned a bunch of times now, post transplant life presents new and very different issues than I'm used to dealing with.

Example: Pre transplant, when I didn't like someone or didn't want to talk to someone, I had an excuse not to because I couldn't really breathe to talk anyway, and I was so super tired all the time that no one minded when I'd just walk away, or lay down in the middle of them talking.  (Of course this had its downfalls because the people I REALLY did want to talk to got the same treatment.  I bet you're wondering which category you fell under, aren't you? :P) Being so hindered in communicating with others kind of left me in a state of hazy awkwardness when I could breathe.  Not breathing conditioned me into behaving a certain way socially, but breathing brought different expectations and a land in which I had forgotten many of the cultural rules.  This culture shock brings about many other difficulties like gossip, attitudes and exaggerating situations.. all of which I do NOT want in my life, let alone in my personality.

Anyway, so I'm post transplant 1 year, 1 month and 24.5 days.  I am 24, soon to be 25 (woohoo!) years old, and I know my name.  Or do I?

Being so firm in the LORD while waiting for lungs in my protected little bubble was much easier than standing firm in the LORD in such a complex world.  There was not much to distract me when I lived on my couch, but now... there's everything.  Serious props the the normies out there for living in such a distracting world their whole lives. 

The person I am today is a lot different than the person who lived in that bubble for so long, and that's both a good and bad thing.  But I get to make decisions on more than just my vent settings now.. Decisions about a life I never thought I'd have - a life of abundance that I had given up on, but God didn't.  

All these distractions, all these decisions, just the fact that I'm different than before all make knowing who I am harder.  What are truly my interests?  What do I like now?  How do I react to things? How do I represent Christ? Is this ok or not ok?  Exploring who I really am now is quite a tedious task!  And I won't lie, it's scary but intriguing to try to figure out who you are. 

And I'm failing.  BUT, I'm not fretting.

God knows my real name.  In fact, God is the one who gave me my real name -- I just don't know what it is yet.  See, when people went and committed their lives to following Christ, God gave them new names.  The disciple Peter's given, earthly name was Simon.  It was God who gave him his real name.  The same goes for Paul; his original name was Saul. God changed their hearts, and then changed their names.  

I don't know what my real name is and frankly, I don't need to right now because during a time of thinking about who I truly am -- God pointed it out to me.. not my name, but who I am.

I am HIS.  And in any trial, in any identity crisis, in any particularly distracting day, that will remain constant.  I am always his.  

I do follow Jesus, he has changed my heart and so I know he has a name for me... 

but I don't need to worry or stress over what my name is...

 because I know what HIS name is. Jesus <3

So... what's your name?  But more importantly, do you know His?

Jesus knows our names - both spiritual and earthly - and he invites us to know His because God is love.

Remember when...

For some reason today I remember one particular day on life support.  I usually loved sitting up (because laying back made me feel like I reallyyyy couldnt breathe - sitting up made me FEEL like i could breathe better.. even though I really wasn't breathing very much either way) so I would do anything and everything to get to sit up which usually meant the reward for doing my physical therapy was getting to sit up for a little bit.  Sounds simple enough, but what physical therapy really meant was: sitting up, taking a million years to have all my wires and IVs and whatever else I was attached to untangled so I could use every last ounce of strength in me to scoot to the side of a bed way to big for me, have my vent switched from a big vent machine to a portable vent machine (which I hated doing), coughing and gasping and then some minor procedures that went along with that (don't wanna gross anyone out) while an ECMO (the main life support) specialist held my blood in two garden hoses the came out of my neck at a very particular angle above my head and moved in accordance with me as if we were siamese twins as an ICU nurse worked to find the correct vent settings to make me comfortable... then hopping/sliding/really basically falling with confidence off of the bed to have some people hold me up while my knuckles went white as I grasped the handles of a walker.  I tried with all my might to will some kind of strength into my legs to shuffle out of my room and down the hall.. but all I had left was weakness.  Just as usual though, God reminded me of his perfect Word and perfect will.  

2 Corinthians 12:9 "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'"  

And man, am I thankful for his power in my weakness because I REALLY REALLY wanted to sit up.  

This wasn't one day.  It was an infinity... Ok, ok it was actually 12 days if you're counting literally... but some infinities are bigger than other infinities, right?  (Major points to you if you get that reference from my favorite book and author :P) Anyway, because I worked SO hard any time I could just to get to sit up, my mom knew it was a particularly rough day when I said I didn't want to.  I mean, sure... I complained about it everyday but I secretly looked forward to it for the reward after.  But this day..  I was just a grouch, or at least I felt like one.  I don't really know how much of a grouch one can be when they can't talk or do anything, but I can guarantee.. if anyone could pull off grouchy while it's impossible -- it's me.  But.. we went through all the motions yet again, and God remained faithful even while I was ungrateful, to give me strength in my weakness, and just like the day before and just what would happen the day after... I got up and walked. And I got to sit in my chair.  

But I wasn't that happy about it.  And my mom could tell. So she decided to make that day different.  See, while I was doing everything I could to stay alive, to walk, to get to sit up... My mom was doing EVERYTHING she could to encourage, comfort, and support me in any way possible.  And during that whole routine of physical therapy... My mom stood out in the hallway (because there wasn't any space left in my room with all the people it took to get me up) singing the Rocky theme song to me.  She'd cheer and clap as soon as I stood.  She'd yell my name like I was a rockstar and she was my biggest fan at the VIP door.. She didn't care who laughed, who walked by or what looks she may have gotten... because her enthusiasm and love was so strong that she ultimately got the physical therapy staff and ICU nurses dancing and cheering in the hall with her.. My mom, ladies and gentlemen, was an encourager, and that day, if none other, she most certainly encouraged me.  

She grabbed a basin, filled it with nice, hot water, and decided it was a pedicure day.  I sat in my chair as she washed and massaged my feet, and then painted my toe nails.  She read from a magazine, and then our friend Patti read some Scripture as I just sat there.  But God didn't just give me a beyond belief wonderful mother, he also threw in another gift.  See, I'm tiny, obviously... so my life support was pretty cramped inside my little body.. so cramped that it would actually start malfunctioning if I sat up for too long instead of being stretched out as I am while laying flat on my back.  It was always a disappointment (and uncomfortable) when I could feel my ECMO start "chugging" and I'd have to be put back in my bed to lay in the same position yet again while praying that life support would start working correctly.  Soon, it became a habit to nervously wait while I was sitting in my chair, just expecting it to start chugging any minute... But that day... it didn't for a looong time. It's probably the longest I was able to sit up and enjoy it before having to go back to bed. 

So I'm sitting here... Just thinking about that day which is as clear in mind as if it was happening right now... And I'm just in awe that someone could exhibit Christ's love so clearly and so abundantly.. (even down to literally washing my feet :P) and I'm so thankful that the someone who so reflects Christ is my mom.  And I'm beyond grateful that God's plans are so much bigger than I can imagine... that he didn't stop there but continued to bless me (and still continues!).. Life support was a storm like no other.. it's never poured so hard in my entire life... but there's something I just didn't realize about everything then:

All that rain was really showers of blessings... because God is love.