By Tara Johnson

Writers, let me ask you a question today: Who does the world say you are?

In her book The Wind in the Door, Madeline L’Engle explores a powerful truth: names matter. In the story, she shows that when someone misnames you, when they call you something other than who you really are, it diminishes you. It strips away your identity. And if you believe the lie long enough, you begin to disappear.

Writers know this battle well. The world is quick to slap labels on us. “You’re a romance writer.” “You’re too niche.” “You’ll never make it in this industry.” “You’re not good enough to get an agent.” These words sting, don’t they? And if we’re not careful, they begin to define us.

We start believing the names we’re given by editors, critics, reviewers—or even our own doubts. But here’s the danger: when you let someone other than God name you, you surrender your identity to a world that doesn’t understand who you were created to be.

In Scripture, we see God naming His people again and again. Abram became Abraham. Jacob became Israel. Simon became Peter. These weren’t marketing strategies or rebranding decisions. They were God’s declarations of identity and purpose. Only the Creator has the right to name His creation. And yet, as writers, how often do we hand that authority to someone else? How often do we measure ourselves by Amazon rankings, one-star reviews, or the acceptance—or rejection—of gatekeepers in publishing? When the industry says, “You’re insignificant,” we believe it. When critics say, “You’re irrelevant,” we let it silence us.

But God says something entirely different. He says, “You are mine.” He says, “You are chosen, beloved, equipped, and called.” He says, “I’ve placed a story inside of you that no one else can tell, because I gave you a voice that no one else has.”

In The Wind in the Door, the great danger wasn’t external enemies—it was the evil of “unnaming”… stripping people and creatures of their true identity. Isn’t that what Satan has been doing since Eden? Whispering lies, renaming God’s children, twisting truth until we forget who we are?

Writers, you can’t let the world name you. Your worth isn’t tied to book sales or awards. Your value doesn’t rest on your platform size or your ability to “fit the market.” Those are the world’s labels. The only name that matters is the one God speaks over you. And when He names you, He also sends you. He sends you to write words that bear His fingerprints. To tell stories that reflect His truth. To live and create out of the identity He gave you—not the one the world tries to force on you.

So, who does the world say you are? Maybe a failure. Maybe a dreamer. Maybe insignificant. But who does God say you are? His. Redeemed. Called. A storyteller in His kingdom. And that, friends, is the only name worth answering to.