God has given me a powerful name: “the appearance, the bearing, of a phoenix.”
It’s this name that the devil must destroy in order to defeat me.
Names make one strong, mighty, significant, but they can also make one vulnerable. It is at the name of Jesus that every knee will bow, that expels devils (Mark 16:17). Yet in other cases, naming something gives one power over it. In Bible times, demons were cast out only after its name was learned. Naming our sin releases its burden over us. Naming an animal endears it to us.
Naming and names should not be taken lightly.
The lie that is attacking my name, my identity, promises fire, ash, destruction, desolation—nothing more. There is pain. There is misery. There is suffering. They will keep coming, I will keep surviving—no more, no less. There will be no redemption, no healing, no hope, no end.
This is to be my fate: forever waiting—waiting faithfully—only to have promises broken and dreams dashed.
But that is not what God has promised me through this name.
The phoenix does indeed burn, but it is not reduced to ashes.
And neither am I.
From the ashes a new creature is born—stronger than the last with 1000 more years to thrive. It will emerge from them with eyes that carry all the wisdom of a previous life and wings spread wide to challenge the skies.
“A simple step of faith for you as you move towards what God has in your future is always rewarded with a God-spoken promise for the now.”—Andrew Gardener, The Vine Church HK
This is my promise bestowed by my God through two men who would cause me to live up to it over and over again.
“‘They will fight against you, but they will not overcome you, for I am with you to deliver you,’ declares the LORD.”—Jeremiah 1:19
Take heart, little phoenix; the fire doesn’t burn forever.
I will burn.
But I will rise.
I am above the ashes.