What a humbling, mud-caked longing which drove Jesus of Nazareth out to the edge of life at the Jordan, with the hope-parched throngs following John. (Luke 3:15-17, 21-22)
In this very day, when he is named Beloved, we are named Beloved. The dove-diving, droplet-rainbowing, heavens-opening, ear-unplugging melody of that name lilts through the centuries into our lives, our souls, our possibility-making.
Make a list of everything you have been called — your roles, your nicknames, your sweet-nothing-whispered love-name, your identities. Make a long list that makes you remember, laugh, even shed a tear at all the monikers you’ve had hung around your neck. Even the most life-affirming labels cannot hold a vibration to this name given by Love Divine. The name given while we were knit in the womb, the over-the-moon embrace of every iota of our becoming, pours out every other name, and then pours it back into a vast, multi-verse-connecting identity. We have lost ourselves and our identities so that we might truly claim who we are as Whose We Are.