BY NAME

Decades ago, someone gave me this mug bearing the correct spelling for my name. I gratefully “wear” this name as it honors my father, John, for which “Jeanne” is a feminine form. And “John” is Hebrew for “God is gracious.” Certainly the idea of “God's grace” fit the reaction of a really-old first-time mom and dad, Elizabeth and Zachariah, whose baby boy "John" would be a cousin to Jesus. In fact, John's parents didn't name that baby. God did via the angel who announced the upcoming, miracle pregnancy (Luke 1:13, 63).

My dad's mother (named “Alvina,” meaning “noble friend”) died in 1927 when he was twelve years old. I was told that she had pneumonia, deadly in those days before antibiotics. She left three children (my dad was the oldest), and a deeply bereaved home. My middle name is my mother's name, Irene, which is Greek for “peace.” She was the oldest of nine born into poverty in a log cabin on a homestead in eastern Montana. Her father was a Norwegian immigrant; her mother had polio and was left with one leg shorter than the other. Yet despite that disability, she raised nine children (three girls, six boys) amid the hardships of primitive farm life. Yes, my name reminds me of my heritage.

So why all this chatter about names? Maybe because one of my favorite Bible passages in Isaiah speaks of names and God's intimate connection with His own. Although the passage addressed the nation Israel during its troubled history, it also speaks of God's character in loving and protecting those of us centuries later who look to Him as our Creator, Provider, and Savior:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze....You are precious and honored in my sight... I love you. (Isaiah 43:1b-2)

This passage especially reminds me of the Exodus story of how a huge people group was miraculously released from crippling Egyptian slavery to begin a long trek to freedom and a new life. Forty arduous, miracle-filled years later, this infant nation stepped into the Jordan River, whose waters miraculously parted. Fathers, mothers, children of all ages went forward for what must have been a scary yet exuberant crossing over a bare riverbed to a yet-unseen new homeland.

This is known history! It is also a record of the Divine Plan. Those thousands that participated in the long and miracle-saturated desert “exodus” learned how helpless they were without the help of God. This wasn't some man-planned expedition. It was a God-plan. These people weren't numbers to God. Each mattered. He knew each by name.

Did you pause at the boldfaced phrase quoted above? God didn't whistle for us (like livestock) or ring a bell or buzzer (like we heard in school!). He knows our names—the ones we like, maybe the ones we didn't. But he sees past the human naming ritual, even past our disappointing sin choices, to call us by loving names: Mine. Precious. Honored, My Love. Imagine those names on your mug! That would be my go-to mug, every day!

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I wondered if someone had come up with a song based on Isaiah 43:1, and the answer is “yes.” Click here: Bing Videos