Black Women Have It Going On

Hello from Colorado, where the mountains remind me that some things remain beautiful even when our hearts are heavy. Today, I’m writing with a little sadness because of Dolly’s passing, and grief has a way of making you stop and think about what really matters.

Today is Friday, August 28, 2026, and my faith is permanently secured in Christ Jesus!

I’ve also been thinking about something I read on LinkedIn this week: “Writing should reflect how you want people to associate with your name.” That sentence stopped me because, honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever deliberately asked myself that question. How do I want people to feel when they see my name?

This question feels especially appropriate after everything we’ve explored this week. We started with the wooden nickel and the danger of accepting something that looks valuable but isn’t. We talked about knowing our worth, questioned who put a price on us, and examined what it means to truly live in freedom. Now, I think we have arrived at the other side of those questions. Once I understand my worth, what do I do with it?

Perhaps I begin by deciding what I want my name to represent.

I don’t need my name to represent perfection. Lord knows, I have made mistakes, changed my mind, questioned things, and taken some roads I probably wouldn’t take again. Life has taught me lessons I couldn’t have learned from a book.

But I do want my name to represent someone who kept searching for truth. Someone who loved deeply, cared about family, wasn’t afraid to ask difficult questions, and could find beauty in a Colorado mountain, a garden, a family photograph, or a story buried in the past. I want my name to represent someone who kept learning, even when life didn’t turn out the way she expected.

And perhaps most importantly, I want my name to represent someone who learned that her value was never determined by what another person was willing to give her.

I don’t want to spend the rest of my life accepting wooden nickels. I don’t want to give away my peace just to be accepted. I don’t want to measure my worth by how useful I am to someone else. And I don’t want my past, someone else’s opinion, or circumstances I cannot control to determine what my future can become.

I want to live from the understanding that God already established my value.

So, what do I want my name to mean?

I’m still figuring that out. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe the important thing isn’t having the perfect answer. Maybe it’s finally asking the question.

And if, somewhere along the way, something I’ve written helps even one person stop accepting less than they are worth, recognize their God-given value, or find the courage to live more freely, then perhaps my name will have meant something after all.

That would be enough for me.

Call to Action

Today, I want you to ask yourself the same question I’ve been asking myself: What do I want my name to mean?

Not what do you want people to think about your accomplishments, your job, your possessions, or your status. Think deeper. How do you want people to feel when they encounter you? What values do you want your life to communicate? What do you hope people remember about the way you treated them?

You don’t have to have the answer today. Sometimes the beginning of a new chapter is simply having the courage to ask the question.

Scripture

“A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.” — Proverbs 22:1 (KJV)

Prayer

Father, help me understand what You want my life and my name to represent. Teach me to live in a way that reflects Your love, Your truth, and the value You have placed within me.

Help me release the need for approval and stop measuring myself by standards that were never meant to define me. Give me wisdom to recognize what deserves my time, courage to walk away from what diminishes me, and grace to keep becoming the woman You created me to be.

When my time on this earth is finished, let my name be remembered not because I was perfect, but because I loved, learned, served, grew, and tried to leave something meaningful behind.

And if something I’ve written helps even one person recognize their own worth, let that be part of the legacy You allow me to leave.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Spiritual Seal

As we close this week’s conversation, remember this:

Your name doesn’t have to be famous to be meaningful.

You don’t have to prove your worth to the world. You don’t have to accept a wooden nickel in exchange for something priceless. And you don’t have to become someone else to leave something meaningful behind.

Live so that your name represents the truth you’ve discovered about yourself.

Know your worth. Protect your peace. Walk in freedom. And let your life tell the story you want your name to carry.

I’ll see you next week, right here from Colorado. ❤️