I am a bit of a word nerd. I can not adequately express how giddy I get when I find the perfect word for something. Facebook posts about a word in another language that completely sums up a particular sensation or emotion that would take entire English sentences to accomplish are fascinating to me. When I see someone breaking down the components of a sign in ASL, only to realize just how significant each gesture is, I get goosebumps. When a pastor shares the original Greek or Hebrew and it deepens my understanding of a passage of Scripture, it fills my heart with joy. So when a new word shows up in my life multiple ways, it really does catch my attention.
I first encountered the Hebrew word me'od last March, while I was reading Ann Voskamp's most recent book, Waymaker. In chapter 15, Ann writes:
Waymaker by Ann Voskamp, pg 285
I have always been what some might consider a "bit dramatic". Okay, maybe a lot dramatic. I talk a lot, and often with my hands. I have a big, loud laugh. I get excited about weird things, like new words. I sing songs at random. I feel things deeply and I love to communicate. Two of my favourite subjects in high school were English and Drama. It was also in high school that I began to receive the message that I was "too much". Too loud, too big, too emotional. I was told that I overwhelmed people, that I needed to blend in better. So I tried to be quieter and less visible. I tried to make myself smaller in the world, to make other people more comfortable. I stopped acting. I stopped singing, and dancing, and writing. I stopped sharing my thoughts and feelings. I relegated myself to the background, and buried my heart. I tried to be less. The problem with trying to be less than what you are, is that you miss out on all of God's best for you. God made me, made all my "muchness". More than that, He made it on purpose, for a purpose.
"For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written all the days that were formed for me,
when none of the them as yet existed.
How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast are the sum of them!
I try to count them - they are more than the sand;
I come to the end - I am still with you."
Psalm 139:13-18, NRSV
Here's the thing. I already know this. I've heard it so many times, and I have spoken this over my own children. In my head, I am fully aware that God knows what He's doing, and that I can trust His plan. But the scars on my heart are still yelling that I need to be less in order to be acceptable. I am still afraid to set my "muchness" free. So God makes His message to me louder.
The next time, it was a book I had been trying (and failing) to read for over 2 years. You Are The Girl For The Job, by Jess Connolly. Even the title rubs up against my wounds and makes me shrink a bit. But there it is, plain as day. In chapter 10 she mentions Joshua 1:7, where God commands Joshua to "Be strong and very courageous." Again, it's the word me'od. Muchness. And then she writes this:
You Are The Girl For The Job by Jess Connolly, pg.157
Of course it could be a mere coincidence that these two different authors, examining two different passages with two very different applications, have actually focused in on the same common Hebrew word and chosen the same word to convey it's translation into English. But I doubt it. Especially after this past weekend. I participated in a workshop for Creative Christians. It was way outside of my comfort zone, but I could feel the Holy Spirit nudging me. God used that time to challenge and stretch me, and although I cannot say I am there yet, I am definitely making progress. I am moving closer to the vision of who I was made to be. I am learning to love and honour God with all the parts of myself. I am learning how to show up, in all of my loud-laughing, deep-feeling "muchness".
And it feels me'od good.
