“So God created mankind in His own image…” — Genesis 1:27

There’s a reason the Bible tells us what humanity was called, not just that humanity was created.

Names mattered long before arguments did.

In Genesis, the first human is called Adam.

Not as a title of power—but as a reminder of origin.

Adam comes from adamah — the ground.

Dust. Earth. Soil.

“The Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground…”

So from the very beginning, man was named to remember his dependence.

Formed from the earth, sustained by God’s breath.

Strength was never meant to forget where it came from.

When woman enters the story, the language shifts in a way that’s easy to miss if we read too quickly.

Man is called ish.

Woman is called ishah.

Same root.

Same humanity.

“She shall be called woman (ishah), for she was taken out of man (ish).”

This wasn’t about ownership.

It wasn’t about hierarchy.

It was recognition.

A naming that said: you are of the same substance.

Bone of my bones. Flesh of my flesh.

The Bible doesn’t present woman as an afterthought—it presents her as a counterpart. Someone alike enough to belong, yet distinct enough to be her own person.

Before sin, the names didn’t separate.

They connected.

Somewhere later, the meaning gets bent.

After the fall, naming shifts. Power dynamics creep in.

What was once mutual begins to fracture.

And too often, we start reading the story from there—from the broken middle—rather than from the tenderness of the beginning.

We mistake distortion for design.

But Genesis is clear: that wasn’t the original intent.

What I love about Jesus is that He doesn’t argue theology to correct this.

He restores dignity by how He shows up.

He speaks to women publicly.

He listens to them.

He entrusts them with truth.

He sends them as witnesses.

Not to elevate one over the other—but to remind us what shared worth looks like when love leads.

Why does this still matter?

Because names shape identity.

And identity shapes how we treat one another—and ourselves.

Man, formed from the earth.

Woman, sharing the same humanity.

Both named before comparison existed.

Both seen before roles were argued.

Both held in the same breath of God.

And maybe remembering that isn’t about winning a discussion.

Maybe it’s about returning to something we forgot:

That we were never meant to diminish each other to feel whole.

We were created to belong.

Together.

Quietly.

On purpose.

“We are all the work of His hand.” – Isaiah 64:8

Until next time,