The Lord gave me 'Sojourner,' because I was to travel up an'

The words of Sojourner Truth strike with the weight of prophecy and the fire of conviction: “The Lord gave me ‘Sojourner,’ because I was to travel up an’ down the land, showin’ the people their sins an’ bein’ a sign unto them. Afterwards, I told the Lord I wanted another name ’cause everybody else had two names, and the Lord gave me ‘Truth,’ because I was to declare the truth to people.” In these words lies the rebirth of a woman who cast aside the chains of her past, not only in flesh but in name, and embraced the mantle of a messenger. Her identity was no longer tied to bondage or obscurity, but to divine purpose: to journey, to reveal, to proclaim.

The ancients knew well the power of naming. Abram became Abraham, Sarai became Sarah, Simon was called Peter, and Saul became Paul. Each transformation marked not a loss of self but a higher calling, a sign that destiny had taken root. In the same way, Isabella Baumfree shed the name of her bondage and received from God a name that carried mission. To be called Sojourner was to embody the path of the pilgrim, the wanderer chosen not for rest but for ceaseless movement. To be called Truth was to bear the eternal flame of honesty, a force that could pierce through deceit and oppression. Her name itself became her testimony, a living sermon.

Her travels across the land were not those of leisure but of sacrifice. She walked roads where women were silenced, where the enslaved were dehumanized, where injustice was defended as holy law. Yet she went forth undaunted, proclaiming freedom, rebuking hypocrisy, and declaring the dignity of her people and her sex. Like the prophets of old, she did not soften her words to please, but spoke with a voice that carried thunder, shaking the consciences of all who heard her. Truth was not just her name—it was her weapon.

History remembers one such moment in 1851 at the Women’s Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio, where she delivered her famous speech often remembered as “Ain’t I a Woman?” Surrounded by men who doubted the place of women in the struggle, and even by some women who feared aligning with abolition, she stood tall and declared her truth. Her words revealed the hypocrisy of a nation that praised motherhood yet denied mothers their rights, that exalted liberty yet enslaved millions. She bore witness not through lofty rhetoric but through lived experience, and her message cut through doubt like a blade.

The meaning of the quote rests upon this principle: that identity is not merely inherited, but chosen and sanctified. To embrace a new name is to embrace a new destiny, and Sojourner Truth’s name was both her map and her mission. She teaches us that one’s purpose may transcend all boundaries—of birth, of station, of gender, of race. Her voice, though born in chains, rang out as a herald of liberation, because she believed herself an instrument of God’s will.

For us, the lesson is clear: do not cling too tightly to the names, labels, or roles given by circumstance. Ask instead, “What am I called to be? What truth am I called to speak?” To live authentically is to sojourn—to journey beyond comfort zones and to carry light into dark places. It is also to speak truth, even when it costs us, even when others prefer silence. For in declaring truth, we declare not only what is real, but who we are.

Thus, let these words be handed down to future generations: a name is not just a word, but a mission. To be a Sojourner is to accept the life of the pilgrim, never content with stillness, always pressing forward. To be Truth is to live with unwavering integrity, proclaiming what is right even when it is dangerous. Walk, then, as pilgrims of justice. Speak as heralds of truth. And like Sojourner Truth, let your very life become a name, a witness, and a legacy.