The name Hephzibah is written in small script on my back.   Hardly anyone knows it’s there.  I have no issues with tattoos or judgement about those who get them.  It just wasn’t something I had ever considered for myself.

My traditional conservative Midwest upbringing and banker profession certainly led me to this place.  Truly, I am much more comfortable (or maybe I just feel more in control) in high heels and a tailored dress or suit than just about anything else.  Subscribing to the whole, the clothes make the woman…and a first impression is everything.

In fact, it took me an extensive amount of time to be “ok” wearing jeans to church.  And even now, when I do, I feel compelled to dress them up them with a great pair of heals.

When my middle daughter, Rachel, saw my tattoo for the first time, by accident…she cried, “Mommy, what have you done to your beautiful body?”  I love her heart for mine.  I had my reasons but explaining God had given me a “new name” proved to be challenging for a twelve year old to fully grasp.  And I was still taking in all that it meant for me.

A name is very important.  In fact, all of the names chosen for my daughters have special meaning, purpose and legacy.  I love to share with my girls where their names came from.

My oldest daughter’s first name is a beloved family friend and her middle name is my maiden name.   My middle’s name is one of the names that I was to be named.  I always loved it, after both of my grandmothers.  And my youngest’s name carries the legacy of her two great great grandmas.

It’s not that I needed a new name.  I love my name.  When people call me by my name it’s incredibly personal, it sings to my heart.  I never went through that awkward teenage phase where kids hate their name.   Kristen means, “Follower of Christ”.  My name gave me a sense of who I was and how I was grounded.

Even though I grew up with a firm foundation, my identity was often rocked by circumstances; mostly stemming from the fact that I did not “like” to let God have control of my life and I didn’t trust God’s heart towards mine.

If I am being honest, at over forty years old, I was really unsure of who I was.  If I wasn’t a wife or a full time mom, or a banker, then who was I?   Years of people pleasing and perfectionism drove my decisions; the idea of who I was supposed to be.

Most of my life, I have gone back and forth.  There are moments when I feel I am “not enough” and I push myself to strive harder to accomplish more.

Working forty hours a week while going to school and laser focused on making straight A’s.  Later, molding myself to be one of the “guys” to excel at work and struggling to be the perfect supermom/super wife at the same time.   The messages came through loud and clear, You are not strong enough, pretty enough, smart enough. You are not capable.

Or the times when I was “too much”.   Emotional, soft and tender.   The outcome was often pain, rejection and abandonment.   Being “too much” was not an option and so I hid my vulnerable, true authentic self.

Divorce rocked me to my very core and reinforced every wound that told me I was “not enough” and I was “too much.”  Everything I planned so perfectly for my life, worked so hard for my family, I felt I had failed at.

In the Bible, when God gives people a new name they signal transformation, and a restoration.  The Roman Warrior Saul is transformed to Paul, “Small or Humble”, Abram and Sarai who have no children, are forever changed to Abraham, “Father to Many”, and Sarah, “Mother of Nations”, Simon becomes Peter, “Rock”, and you get the idea.

Were these names bestowed foreshadowing God’s plan, or were they given along with a challenge to live up to that Call?   I wanted both a transformation and a restoration.  I needed a new name, a reminder of who He already said I was in HIS eyes.

The first year after my divorce I ran to God, head-on.  I was looking for HIM and reading the Bible was part of my journey.  I couldn’t get enough of HIS words.  It was counsel, comfort and I was learning.

I never imagined I could read the Bible all the way through…it was too hard, too confusing, and sometimes very, very boring.  Seriously, have you ever tried to read Leviticus?

Up every morning at 4am anyway, soaking in God’s word.  It became therapy for my soul.  My heart was being healed.  It was on one of these very mornings, when I read Isaiah 62:1-6.

“You will get a brand-new name straight from the mouth of God.  You’ll be a stunning crown in the palm of God’s hand, a jeweled cup held high in the hand of your God.  No more will anyone call you Rejected, and your country will no more be called Ruined.  You will be called Hephzibah (My Delight) and your land Beulah.”

My Delight?  My heart rate quickened at those words and heat began to rise up inside me.  At that moment, I was a little girl again lovingly scooped up and put to rest on my father’s knee.  Washing over me was a sweet affirmation from my Daddy; one every little girl longs to have.

My mind began to race and something inside of me was pushing me to seek more.  I had never heard that name or read this part of scripture.   I googled “Hephzibah”.

As if I had just received the most precious gift, these words were whispered into the deep wounds of my heart …..“my delight is in you”.   Warm healing tears flowed down my cheeks.  Did I even know that my Heavenly Father delights in me?

This realization was almost more than I could bear.   It was bigger than my divorce.  He was redeeming.  All the shame and hiding were healing…melting away.   The years of feeling like I was “not enough” and I was “too much.”   Years of fearing being abandon and years of satan’s lies attempting to confirm that fact with every wound I ever had.

I wanted the tattoo as both a prayer and an identity.  God gave me a new name, but I had a decision to make.  Would I accept it?  It was my choice to meet the challenge, take the risk, enter the ring, step up to the plate.  I had to declare, “Put me in, Coach”.  It was my job to answer the call.

And each time I hear “I am not enough” or “I am too much”, I get to decide once again if I will believe and trust HIM.

God delights in me, now plays in my head.  Not because of anything I have done, not because I am reading the bible, writing a blog, or even climbing a mountain, but because of who He is.

I didn’t have to earn it, or work for it and I don’t have to hide because I could never lose His delight in me.  Shame is done; I am enough and I am never too much for Him to take.

I also didn’t need to have, Hephzibah, tattooed on my back, but it is a reminder every time I see it.  A mark of HIS Promise for me…HIS delight IS in me.

Yes, I wanted a brand new name!   He has given me a new name.  I have let go of the old and I have grabbed hold of something new.  Exactly who He made me to be, “A stunning crown in the palm of HIS hand.”