Sometimes You Want to Go Where Everybody Knows Your Name -- Hope Chronicles 89

This week I've helped out some with my church's VBS -- entitled Kamp KidStuf. It's an offshoot of something we do every week during the school year. My role has been to take pictures. A couple nights ago, during a lull, I wandered outside. A father was saying that his 4-year-old (not from our church) wasn't sure he wanted to come. His explanation: "No one will say 'Jack'!"

Happily, he was wrong. The observant teacher read his nametag right away and called him by name. His fear of joining in was that no one would know him.

Honestly, that is one of my biggest fears too. It is the thing that makes me most timid.

The conversation reminded me of a show that aired when I was in highschool -- Cheers. It was set in a Boston bar called Cheers. The theme song went like this (be glad you cannot hear me sing):

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name
And they're always glad you came
You want to go where people know
People are all the same
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name

Isn't that the truth? There is something so refreshing, so meaningful about being called by your name. It reminds me of last year when I went to She Speaks 2008. No sooner than I had stepped out of the car then Lysa Terkeurst yelled at me from behind, "Amy!"

Later that night I was working on my talk in the hotel lobby. Lisa Whittle scared me from behind. We had never met, but she recognized me from my blog and greeted me warmly.

The next day I was at dinner with people I had never met. Most of us blogged and we were sharing our site names. I said, "My blog is God's Work In Progress. . . ." Sharon, across the table, let out a shriek. "You're Amy L Brooke. You're AMY L BROOKE!" For a moment, I thought she was mocking me for some reason I couldn't fathom. It turns out that she had read my little corner of blogdom and was that excited to meet me.

Do those things happen every day? No. They don't even happen on a semi annual basis. But God blessed me that weekend by giving me that sense of "everybody knowing my name." More importantly, it was great reminder of the fact that God knows my name.

God knows my name. The God of the universe who fashioned billions of people knows me intimately. He calls me his child. He never fumbles around as we sometimes do, "Andrea, Amanda, who ever you are!" I am never out of his mind, never out of his sight, never out of the reach of His hand. That is a wondrous hope when I start to feel like one of many or even like no one in particular. God knows my name.

Remembering those events from She Speaks 2008, makes me want to be even more adapt at remembering the names of those around me and if I don't know them, sincerely greeting them like Sharon greeted me -- excited for the opportunity. Imagine the hope that might pass on.