Sixty-Five Years
I turned sixty-five this year. Six and a half decades on this earth. And if there's one thing I've learned across all those years — across the dialysis chair, the hospital rooms, the moments of grief and the moments of joy, the seasons of want and the seasons of abundance — it's this: I know who I am because I know Whose I am.
That's not a cliché. That's not something I put on a coffee mug. That is the hard-won truth of a woman who has been through enough to have every reason to doubt herself, and who has instead discovered that identity is not something you achieve — it is something you receive.
Let me tell you what sixty-five years have taught me about the name God speaks over your life — before you were born, before anyone else had an opinion about you, before the world tried to tell you who you are.
Before I Formed You, I Knew You
There's a verse in Jeremiah that has anchored my entire life. God says to Jeremiah: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations" (Jeremiah 1:5).
Think about what that means. Before Jeremiah's mother knew she was pregnant. Before his body began to form. Before anyone on earth knew his name — God already knew him. God had already set him apart. God had already appointed him. His identity was not determined by his circumstances, his parents, his failures, or his successes. His identity was determined by the God who spoke his name before time began.
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations."
— Jeremiah 1:5
And here's what I need you to understand: That verse is not just about Jeremiah. It's about you. It's about me. Before anyone had an opinion about Nicole Washington, God had already spoken my name. Before the world tried to tell me who I was, God had already declared it.
My Name Is Not an Accident
Nicole. The name my parents gave me. A name that means "victory of the people." Do you think that was a coincidence? My parents didn't know what my life would hold. They didn't know about the dialysis chair. They didn't know about the ministry. They didn't know I would spend decades telling people that they can survive what should have taken them out. But God knew.
And Washington — a name that carries weight, history, legacy. I carry it not as a burden but as a declaration: I am part of something bigger than myself. My life is part of a story that began before me and will continue after me.
Your name is not an accident either. The circumstances of your birth — the family you were born into, the place, the time, the challenges, the gifts — none of it is random. God doesn't do random. God does purpose.
The World Will Try to Name You
Here's the battle: The world is always trying to name you. It tries to name you by your diagnosis — "sick," "dialysis patient," "chronic." It tries to name you by your past — "divorced," "addict," "failure." It tries to name you by your bank account — "broke," "struggling," "not enough." It tries to name you by other people's opinions — "difficult," "too much," "not enough."
And if you accept the world's name for you, you will live within the limits of that name. If you believe you are "sick," you will live sick. If you believe you are "not enough," you will live not enough. If you believe you are "a failure," you will stop trying.
But the name God speaks over you overrides every name the world tries to give you. You have to decide which name you're going to answer to.
What 65 Years Have Taught Me About Identity
At sixty-five, I can look back and see the thread. The thread of God's purpose running through every season. Even the seasons I didn't understand. Even the seasons I wouldn't have chosen. Even the seasons I begged God to take away.
That dialysis chair? God was in it. Those hospital rooms? God was there. The years of waiting, the closed doors, the rejection letters, the people who walked away — God was weaving all of it into the woman I am today. None of it was wasted. None of it was meaningless. All of it was preparation.
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." — Romans 8:28
Your Identity Is Received, Not Achieved
This is the mistake I see people make over and over again. They think identity is something you build — through achievements, through titles, through recognition, through what other people think of you. So they chase. They strive. They perform. And they're exhausted.
But identity is not built. Identity is received. You don't become who God says you are by trying harder. You become who God says you are by believing what He has already spoken over you.
When I sit in that dialysis chair, I am not a patient. I am Nicole Washington — a daughter of the Most High God, called and set apart before I was born, walking in purpose even when my body is weak. The chair does not get to name me. The diagnosis does not get to name me. Only God gets to name me.
An Invitation
So here's my invitation to you, at whatever age you are, at whatever stage of life you're in: Stop letting the world name you. Stop answering to names God never gave you. Stop believing the labels that were put on you by people who didn't know who you really are.
Ask God: "What name did You speak over me before I was born?" And then listen. Because He's been speaking it all along. You just had too much noise in your ears to hear it.
I am Nicole. That's the name my parents gave me. But more importantly, that's the name God confirmed. And at sixty-five years old, I am still discovering the fullness of everything that name carries.
You are not an accident. You are not a mistake. You are not what happened to you. You are who God says you are. Now go live like it.
A Prayer for Identity
Father, thank You that You knew me before I was born.
Help me to hear the name You speak over me — not the names the world has tried to give me. Silence every voice that contradicts what You have declared. Let Your Word be the loudest thing in my ears.
Teach me to receive my identity instead of striving to achieve it. Let me rest in the truth that I am who You say I am — loved, called, set apart, and appointed for purpose.
And when the world tries to name me, give me the strength to answer only to You.
In Jesus's name, Amen.
Declarations of Identity
- • I declare: I am who God says I am.
- • I declare: God knew me before I was formed in the womb.
- • I declare: My identity is received, not achieved.
- • I declare: I refuse to answer to names God never gave me.
- • I declare: Every season of my life has purpose.
- • I declare: I am called, set apart, and appointed.
- • I declare: The world does not get to name me — only God does.
- • I declare: My past does not define me; God's Word defines me.
- • I declare: I am not an accident. I am intentional.
- • I declare: I am walking in the fullness of who God created me to be.
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