Called By Name

“God does not give us overcoming life; He gives us life as we overcome.” ~Oswald Chambers

This week, I started a new job.

New calendar.
New expectations.
New language to learn.
I'm fried and fired up.

And on Wednesday night, I sat under a dynamic teaching about Gideon—
hiding in a winepress, threshing wheat in secret, just trying to survive.
Survive. Bracing for impact. Uncertain.

“Gideon was threshing wheat in a winepress to keep it from the Midianites.”
— Judges 6:11

Not a battlefield.
Not an executive lounge.

A place of concealment.

And it was there—there—that the Lord met him.

“The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.”
— Judges 6:12

That landed differently than I expected.

Because on paper, this week looks like arising.
Forward motion.
Answered prayers.
A yes after a thousand no's.

On the surface, this week looks resolved.
Underneath it, I’ve been moving carefully—
quietly—because resolution doesn’t erase memory.

And I wondered—have I been hiding?

Not from responsibility.
Not from obedience.
But from visibility and, perhaps, calling—
burying myself in work because tasks don’t ask to be known.

Gideon lived in a time when exposure invited attack.
Where being seen meant being stripped.

We live in modern progress.
Gucci on the outside.
AI on the inside.

But the rules haven’t changed.
Visibility still costs something.
Survival still requires discretion.

And still, God didn’t wait for him to step into confidence.
And I'll be darned if He didn't wait for me either...

He spoke identity before evidence.
Calling before courage.
Purpose before proof.

Gideon pushes back.

“Pardon me, my lord… how can I save Israel?”
— Judges 6:15

And the answer isn’t a pep talk.
It’s a promise.

“I will be with you.”
— Judges 6:16

That’s what undid me.

I am good at what I do because He is with me.
That's it, that's the post.

Starting something new doesn’t automatically mean I feel brave.
I think it just means I'm willing.
And maybe I'm still standing in the winepress—
even while taking this next step.

And then this scripture surfaced, steady and unmistakable:

“I have called you by name; you are mine.”
— Isaiah 43:1

Not when I'm settled.
Not when I'm confident.
Not when the hiding is fully over.

By name.
Even here.
Even now.

I don’t know yet whether I’m still in the winepress
or standing at its edge.

But I know this:
being hidden does not mean being forgotten.

And when God calls you,
He doesn’t wait for the fear to disappear—
He calls you by your name
and reminds you who you are.

Mighty warrior.

Even here.
Even now.
Even before I believe it. 🤍