"I have a Maker, He formed my heart....He knows my name...He knows my every thought..."   

Tommy Walker 

It's a simple truth...I can't always remember people's names. After being a part of staff in church settings for the past thirty years, it is a simple truth that I have come to know about myself.

Put yourself in my shoes for a moment. There you are up on stage. You have served in churches with 200 to over 1,000 in attendance. You lead the audience in a welcome, prayer, announcements, worship, and you look out over the vast blur of faces. Although you are more than well-aware of your forty-plus worship team members, and you know their names by heart, the silhouettes of the faces in the audience permeate your heart and mind, but you haven't had the privilege of knowing each person at an intimate level.

Here's where the twist comes into play....they know you. They know your name, they know your job title, they know who your kids are, where you live, and how you lead them on any given Sunday. Yes, they know you. There is one of you on that stage, on that staff, and there is a myriad of them.

It's an odd fact of life, that the more people you're leading, the less people you really know.
 

That fact was proven again two weeks ago while shopping in the cities. While perusing the strawberries, a friendly young woman looked up at me and exclaimed, "Why, Kathy! I'm so glad to see you! How are things going for you? What's Best Life up to?" I smiled and chatted, while instantaneously, the rolodex of my mind began to whirl about.

Is she from this church...no...that

church...no ...neighbor....no ....sister-in-law...no... I could not remember her name. I continued to chat and ask her how her family was, hoping that would shake off the cobwebs of my brain. Nothing. We parted and I felt a huge wave of stress fall over me. Afterwhile, the stress was subdued, only as I found myself standing at a wake of an old friend's father.

As I stood there, memories began to trickle in through the windows of my mind, like warm sunshine on a spring day, and I welcomed them. I could see my childhood friend in front of me, a grown man now, and yet, for a moment he was a little five year old waiting for recess, and then a middle schooler, waiting to see what we got on our math quiz, and then a band member marching next to me down the streets of the town, and a young college student walking down the hall for a visit.

I snapped back to the present and heard a voice saying my name, "Kathy, Kathy, do you remember me?" Oh, no! The dreaded question! I scrambled around and looked smack into the face of a tall man with kind eyes, hidden behind a lot of facial hair. It's hard to remember someone from gradeschool, when you can't see past the beard. I tried, I really did.

He chuckled and said "Imagine me without the beard." No...that didn't help. "Imagine me with black hair on my now-bald head." Nope.... "Imagine me holding a trumpet and sitting next to Keith." Okay..now I got it. Thirty-one years had passed since I saw Kevin and although his voice was the same, I could not have picked him out of a crowd. He was a kind, young man from my band class in highschool. He remembered my name.

Exodus 3:14 shows us a time where Moses fears that the Israelites will not believe that he's been given direction from God. There is no fear from God that the Israelites will not know Him or His name... God simply answers, " "I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"

In Mark chapter 8, Jesus asks Peter, "Who do you say that I am?" 'You are the Messiah,' Peter answers." Peter and the disciples know the Savior. They've spent time with Him in prayer, worship, healing and teaching. They know His name.

Yesterday, I walked the aisles of Wal-Mart and continued to ponder the realization that names are important to us...they help define our existence. I took a moment and really looked at people. There seemed to be hundreds of them, all busily racing from one thing to the next, living and breathing their existence called life. I didn't know these people. I could not tell you any one single person's name.
 

But I know this for a fact~God made each one of us and He knows our name. My simple inability to remember someone from thirty years ago, or thirty minutes ago is a fact, much like the simple truth that God tells us in Matthew 10, "What's the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail-even numbering the hairs on your head!"

I know this simple truth: He called us into existence. He loved us enough to send His Son to die on the cross for us. He knows our name. He doesn't forget it. 

"Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's womb. I thank you, High God-you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration-what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, The days of my life all prepared before I'd even lived one day." 

The Message... Psalm 139:13 

There are teeth grinders, hair twirlers and nail biters. There are finger scratchers, cheek biters and leg shakers. Look around: when anxiety and stress go up, the funny, human habits appear.

Personally, I am a teeth grinder. I can easily tell when I have been under too much stress: my jaw is soar and my teeth hurt. Whether I am trying to make a deadline, worrying about whether-or-not I can make all of my appointments tomorrow, or simply just worrying about worrying, I can feel the tension build up in my jaw. I have begun to wonder whether this is what God has intended for me.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus invites his disciples to gaze upon creation and let their eyes rest upon the birds. These birds neither sow nor reap; they do not store up food in barns, or wonder where their next meal is going to come from. Yet, God takes care of all their needs.

As I look out my window at the birds that are slowly making their way from the warm south to the northern territories, I find myself wondering: do these birds fly around with clenched beaks worrying about every little thing in life? Yet, Jesus promises that as they are taken care of by God, in an even more abundant way, God is taking care of us all: despite the teeth grinding, the nail bighting and the leg shaking.

Perhaps the first step to living a simple life is learning how to let go. For starters, it is important to let go of the false idea that we can control everything that goes on in our life. Thinking that we can control everything is only going to give us a false sense of security. Jesus begs us not to worry about controlling our lives, because ultimately he is taking care of all that we need. What better person to care for our needs than our all loving Savior.

Perhaps this Spring as we hear the birds singing sweetly to each other, or view them soaring high above our heads, we can be reminded of just how much God loves us, and is taking care of us. And when we feel tempted to bite those nails, or shake those legs, or grind those teeth, we can catch ourselves and say a short little prayer: God, thank you that you love me and are in control of my life.

Creating Space

We are in the midst of what people in Minnesota like to refer to as "borrowed it to you" - the rest of the church calls in Lent. Just a little church/grammar humor for you.

I love the Lenten season. That may seem ridiculous. Isn't this the season that is supposed to remind us of our frailty and sinfulness? Isn't this the season we choose to give something up that hurts? Yeah. And I like it. Without this rhythm built into our year, I may never choose to focus on it for weeks on end. Regardless of whether we are taking time to acknowledge our frailty, it is there all the time. But our lives are so incredibly full of everything that not only are we blinded to our weakness, we definitely don't have time for it. Lent is a time when we can choose simplicity.

Choosing simplicity can create space that is terrifying. But God looks for those spaces. He longs to be with us, but we often choose such fullness there just isn't room. By letting go of something to create margin in our lives, even if the margin seems more overwhelming than the fullness, it forces us to grapple with our frailty. That is what we do during Lent. We see our frailty by creating space, but instead of finding new things to fill it, we leave it open and wait for God to fill it to overflowing.

"Being a Christian is more than just an instantaneous conversion - it is a daily process whereby you grow to be more and more like Christ."

Billy Graham

Recently, my daughter, Peyton, and I attended a birthday party with a bunch of other girls. We all met up at Jo-Ann Fabrics' activity room and had a craft party - complete with pizza, cupcakes and lots of little girly giggles. While the party was a lot of fun, it was one of those times where the fact that Peyton is different pretty much slapped me right in the face.

I couldn't help but notice some of the looks Peyton got from girls who haven't spent much time with her. All of the girls were absolute sweethearts and they weren't doing anything wrong - they were just being curious kids. You'd think that after almost 7 years of dealing with situations like this I'd be able to ignore the looks, but no. Like I said, none of the girls did anything wrong or said anything, they just looked. Some stared. Others took quick glances up from their projects every time Peyton squealed with excitement. As usual, I just kept right on helping Peyton, trying to not let the looks bother me.

We did some fun crafts during the party, including painting treasure boxes, beading bracelets, and the girls even had a chance to decorate their own cupcakes. Of course, Peyton had her own way of doing each project, completely different than any of the other girls and certainly not following any of the instructions set out by the Activity Coordinator. To my relief, the Activity Coordinator was wonderful and made sure to tell Peyton how wonderful her projects looked.

Once we'd finished our crafts and eaten our cupcakes it was time to open presents. Peyton was very excited for her friend to open her gift. Well Peyton's gift ended up being the last one that was opened, so the whole time Peyton's yelling, "You wanna open MY gift?" More stares. I kept reassuring her that her gift was coming up soon. Then it came - her friend was reaching for our gift and Peyton stood up out of her chair and yelled, "OPEN IT!!!!!!!!!! IT'S GREEN!!!!" and began jumping up and down enthusiastically. Stares.

Finally, the gifts were all opened and the girls were gathered around the birthday girl, admiring the gifts she'd gotten...all the girls except for Peyton, who was happily playing with the pile of tissue paper left over from all the gift bags. *Sigh* There's just no getting around it. Peyton is different. She'll probably never fit into a category people consider normal. My heart just ached and longed for everyone else in the world to see what a unique and special girl Peyton is.

As the party wrapped up, the other girls' parents came to pick them up. I was pulling down streamers and balloons, when I turned and saw the Activity Coordinator walk over to Peyton. She leaned down and told Peyton she had a surprise for her. Peyton looked up at her, smiled, and held out her hand. The lady dropped several shiny beads in to Peyton's hand and told her they were something special she could take home with her to put in her treasure box. Peyton kept smiling and said, "Thank you for having us!" The lady smiled warmly and told her, "Thank YOU for coming - you made my night, Peyton." I couldn't help but feel more at peace with how the evening had gone after seeing, that despite the fact I felt as though we stuck out like a sore thumb, God had used Peyton to touch the heart of this stranger.

Perspective. That was the word that God placed on my heart as I kept running through my head how the evening had played out. I held back tears as I tucked Peyton in to bed after she whispered "I wuv you Mommy". I need to keep everything in perspective. I need to realize that God knew EXACTLY what He was doing when He made Peyton. He knew she'd have the ability to make an impact on complete strangers simply by her joyous spirit. He knew she'd love animals. He knew she'd love music. He knew she'd have a genuine compassion for others. He knew she'd have a quirky, silly sense of humor. He knew she'd love macaroni and cheese. He knew she'd have an incredible ability to remember people's birthdays. He knew she'd be viewed by others - as different. But that's how He intended Peyton to be. Different.
 

Psalm 139:13-16