Elizabeth: When Identity Becomes Calling

 

I've been thinking a lot about Elizabeth lately. Actually, I can't stop thinking about her. You know her story—the older woman who became pregnant with John the Baptist after years of waiting. But what strikes me most isn't just the miracle. It's how she lived before the miracle ever came.

Because here's what I'm walking through right now: God has given me a promise that feels impossibly big. The kind of promise that makes you wonder if you heard Him right. And in this season, Elizabeth—her name, her faith, her prophetic discernment—keeps coming to mind. I need faith like hers.

Elizabeth's life reminds us that identity often comes before assignment. Long before the fulfillment, she was already living in alignment with who God said she was. And honestly? That challenges me. Because most of us are waiting for the calling to show up before we start living like who God says we are.

A Name Rooted in Covenant

Elizabeth's name comes from the Hebrew Elisheva, which means "God is my oath" or "God is my pledge." Every time someone spoke her name, they were declaring something powerful: God has made a promise, and He will keep it.

But here's what's been stirring in my heart—her name isn't just a reminder that God pledges to us. It's also a call for us to pledge back to Him. God is saying, "I am your guarantee. I will deliver my promises." And our response? To live wholeheartedly for Him, not halfway, not conditionally, but fully surrendered.

This is what I'm learning to walk out. When God gives you a promise so big it terrifies you, your identity must be rooted in His pledge before you ever see its fulfillment. Elizabeth's name is what I'm clinging to right now—God is my pledge. He will be faithful. And I have to pledge my whole life back to Him while I wait.

Elizabeth understood this. Even through years of unanswered prayers and the kind of silent sorrow that reshapes you, she kept her pledge. Her identity wasn't built on what she had or didn't have—it was anchored in a mutual covenant. God pledged to her, and she pledged her life back to Him.

That's the kind of faith I'm reaching for. The kind that doesn't need proof before it stays faithful.

Identity That Shaped Her Gifts

Here's what I love about Elizabeth: her spiritual gifts weren't something she performed for applause. They grew out of her relationship with God. She walked in faith, discernment, and prophetic insight because she'd spent years learning to trust Him—and she'd pledged to honor Him no matter what.

Her faith. Her prophecy. Her discernment. These are the gifts that speak to me right now. Because when you're carrying a promise that hasn't manifested yet, you need the kind of faith that can see what God is doing even when circumstances say otherwise.

When Mary showed up at her door—young, pregnant, probably scared—Elizabeth didn't hesitate. Filled with the Holy Spirit, she immediately recognized what God was doing and spoke a blessing over Mary's life. No jealousy. No confusion. Just pure, Spirit-led affirmation.

I think about how often we miss what God is doing because we're too focused on our own story. Elizabeth shows us what happens when our identity is so secure in God's pledge to us—and our pledge to Him—that we can celebrate His work in others without feeling threatened.

Calling Revealed Through Obedience

Elizabeth's calling wasn't flashy. God entrusted her with raising John the Baptist—a prophet who would prepare the way for Jesus. But here's the thing: most of her calling looked like everyday motherhood. Teaching. Nurturing. Modeling faithfulness. Instilling a reverence for God in her son.

Nobody was watching. There were no social media posts about "raising a prophet." Just quiet, faithful obedience in the small moments that shaped a life. This was her pledge lived out daily.

That speaks to me. Calling doesn't always look like a platform. Sometimes it seems like obedience in the hidden places, faithfulness in the waiting, and trust in God's timing even when it doesn't make sense.

And that's how most callings work, isn't it? Calling has to be significant and visible. Still, God often fulfills His greatest purposes through people who are simply faithful in the everyday—who live wholeheartedly for Him, whether anyone notices or not.

Elizabeth shows us that calling isn't something we strive for—it unfolds when identity and obedience align.

When Identity and Calling Align

Elizabeth didn't chase significance. She lived surrendered. And because of that, when God's timing came, she was ready.

I wonder sometimes if we're holding back our pledge to God, waiting for Him to deliver first. But Elizabeth's story flips that. She shows us that when we pledge to live wholeheartedly for God—trusting His pledge to us—calling unfolds naturally.

So maybe the question isn't "What's my calling?" It may be "Have I made my pledge? Am I living wholeheartedly for God right now, in this season, trusting that He keeps His promises even when nothing looks like I thought it would?"

When you're walking out on a promise that feels too big, you need Elizabeth's faith. You need her discernment to recognize God's hand at work. You need her prophetic insight to see beyond the natural. And you need her obedience to stay faithful in the hidden places while you wait.

Where This Leaves Us

Elizabeth lived as her name declared—trusting God's pledge to her and honoring her pledge to Him. Her story gives me permission to stop striving and start trusting. To stop waiting for proof and start living faithfully.

God is our pledge. He will deliver His promises. The question is: will we pledge our whole lives back to Him? 🤍

Identity becomes calling when both pledges remain faithful—His to us, and ours to Him.

A Prayer

Father, thank You for Elizabeth's story—for showing us what it looks like to live faithfully when the promise feels far off. Thank You for being our pledge, our guarantee, even when we can't see what You're doing.

Today, I make my pledge to You again. I surrender my timeline, my understanding, my need for proof. Teach me to live wholeheartedly for You in this season—not halfway, not conditionally, but fully Yours.

Give me Elizabeth's faith to trust You in the waiting. Her discernment to recognize Your hand at work. Her prophetic insight to see beyond what's natural. And her obedience to stay faithful in the hidden places where nobody's watching.

Help me stop striving for significance and instead live surrendered. Remind me that my identity isn't found in what I accomplish, but in whose I am. You are my pledge. I am Yours.

I trust that You will deliver Your promises in Your perfect timing. Until then, may my life reflect the covenant we share—Your faithfulness to me, and mine back to You.

In Jesus' name, Amen. 🤍

A Personal Note

Whether you're walking through a season of waiting, uncertainty, or calling, be reminded by Elizabeth's story. Be strengthened by her faith. Be reassured by her discernment. And know this: your name has meaning, your life has promise, and God is waiting for your obedience and faithfulness.

He's refining what is good in you. He's inviting you to see life through His lens—to witness the wonders of God in all of it.

Your life is God's. Walk it out wholeheartedly.