We can better discern God’s voice and follow God when we more fully understand who he is. God’s names are active, showing us who he is, how he works, and the many different ways we can cry out to him.
There are more than a hundred names of God in Scripture, and I encourage you to study them to learn more about this God who names you. Here are 10 of the names of God I have personally held on to throughout my life.
Hagar was a slave, a woman who became a pawn in Abraham and Sarah’s impatience as they waited for the Lord’s plan to unfold. She knew what it was like to be unseen by the people around her.
Impregnated by her master, then abused and left alone, Hagar found herself in a desert when an angel appeared, telling her that God had heard her cries and had plans for her and the child in her womb. Immediately, she declared, “You are El Roi, the God who sees me.”
Hagar was one of the first female theologians and one of the first people outside of the Hebrew family to give God a name.
And like Hagar — in our moments of feeling abandoned, isolated, and alone — we can call out to El Roi, knowing that no matter where we are, our God sees us (Genesis 16:1-16).
In the ancient world, a shepherd served as the provider and protector of the flock, the one who would lead sheep to pasture and water and fight off any attacking wolves.
Our God is a shepherd, but not just any shepherd; God is a royal shepherd, ruling over the sheep (us) and reigning over every circumstance. When we need sovereign provision, protection, and leading in our own lives, we can call on Jehovah Rohi, the Lord our shepherd (Psalm 23).
When everything around us is spiraling out of control, we need to remember that God is the Lord above all.
When idolatry threatens to overtake our nations, our governments, and our churches, or when we are fixated on our own circumstances and can’t seem to break free, we need to cling to the name El Elyon, remembering that the Lord who created everything is still in control and remains most high (Genesis 14:18-20; Deuteronomy 26:19; Psalm 57:2).
In a world bent on equating righteousness with being a “good person,” our daily failures, shortcomings, and sins scream that no amount of willpower can truly make us good enough.
We need a Savior, someone to do what our weak flesh cannot. Jesus came so that in those moments when our imperfection threatens to derail us, we can call on Jehovah Tsidkenu, the Lord our righteousness (Jeremiah 23:5-6).
Often, our finite perspectives get blurred because the moment feels pressing; the unimportant things, the urgent things, can quickly overshadow our perspective about what really matters.
Those are the moments in which we need a reminder of a God who has always been and will always be. We need to cry out to El Olam, the Everlasting God (Psalm 90:1).
Life is full of battles. In our homes, in our workplaces, in our schools, in our churches, in our neighborhoods. Sometimes it feels like there is an all-out war everywhere we turn.
We can feel like the underdog, like everything is stacked against us, just like the Israelites as they made their way toward a future of hope.
They faced attacks at every bend — yet they never fought alone. With every arrow of attack stacked against us, we need to raise a banner, a symbol of victory in our most gruesome wars, as a reminder that Jehovah Nissi never leaves our side (Exodus 17:15).
In Christ, we have been set apart, made holy. We continue to live in this world while wrestling with what it means to not be of it. The process of growing in the likeness of Jesus is a lifelong one through sanctification, the daily refinement of our lives to reflect his.
It’s easy to want to force ourselves to be better when the truth is that the power to transform us resides with the Lord, who sanctifies us. When you find yourself trying to force yourself into a cruciform life, ask for Jehovah Mekaddishkem to help you (Exodus 31:13; 1 Peter 1:15-16).
We know what it is like to live in unrest. With wars and threats of wars raging in our world and with the internal battles of fear storming within, finding shalom feels nearly impossible.
The Israelites and Gideon knew this same kind of uncertainty and anxiety as enemies threatened to destroy them. Gideon needed to be reminded that the Lord was with him, even when his army was weaker than its opponents.
So, God encouraged Gideon — giving him the peace he needed to declare his trust in Jehovah Shalom. The same reassurance Gideon received is also ours from the Lord of peace (Judges 6:24).
As we try whatever means necessary to rid to ourselves of pain, we often overlook the reality that God is a healer. Do you remember how Jesus walked into town, spit on the dirt, and slathered the paste on the eyes of a blind man so that he could see once and for all?
Healing was a central part of Jesus’ ministry, and our unchanging God is still a healer today. With all the brokenness that comes from being a part of this sin-riddled world, whether physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual, we need to remember that God heals.
And while healing may come in a way we aren’t expecting, Yahweh Rapha is always willing to hear our prayers for it (Exodus 15:26; Psalm 103:2-3; Matthew 4:23).
There is no name more simple or more powerful that we can call God. Adonai simply translates as Lord, communicating his position as it rolls off our tongues. And through it, we remember that he is our master, our authority, our King.
And as we fight to build our own kingdoms, declaring “our will be done,” no other name rightly puts us in our place quite like this one. For the days you need to remember that it is not your kingdom come, but his, call upon the only name that matters: Adonai (Exodus 4:10-11).
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