How do you know my name?

A little over a year ago, my wife and I went to support our younger son and his then-girlfriend (now wife, but that’s a story for another day) as they ran through downtown Raleigh.  Our son ran the half-marathon, while she ran the 10k.  Fortunately for me and the missus, their race paths merged for a short portion of the course.  We set up shop and began to watch excitedly for them to run by, ready to cheer them on.

I’ve run a number of races, and I’ve always appreciated the people in the crowd who would cheer for me.  There’s something uniquely special about having complete strangers yell encouragement as you work to keep moving forward.  So, while we waited for our two runners to come by, we started to cheer for the rest of the runners, too:

Let’s GO!!!!
C’mon, you got this!
Keep it up.  Keep it up.
You’re doing great!
Don’t quit now!

At one point, however, I realized that the bibs each one wore with their race number also listed the runner’s first name and last initial.  It was in much smaller font below the extra-large race number, but on many of the runners I was able to read their first name.  So, for any runner I could, I added their name to my yelled encouragement:

Let’s GO, James!!!
You got this, Brian!
Keep going, Nancy!

And you know what?  There was a visible shift in the runners.  When I called out their name, they made eye contact directly with me.  I kept smiling and cheering them on.  The encouragement I was calling out suddenly hit deeper and you could see it in their responses – some would straighten up their form, many smiled back at me, a few picked up their pace with confidence. 

One older lady named Nancy who was race-walking with two other ladies, when I called out her name, practically stopped her pace to ask me, “Do I know you?” 

I said, “Nope” and shook my head.

“Then how do you know my name?” she asked with a bewildered look on her face.

“I read your bib.” I replied with a smile on my face, pointing across my own chest, as if I had a bib.

She didn’t know what to say but went back to race-walking with her friends.  She seemed pleasantly surprised to get called by name like that.

I didn’t know anything about them, other than their name.  What many of us forget is that God knows us, even more than just our name:

Psalm 139:1-3, 13-14
Lord, You have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I stand up;
You understand my thoughts from far away.
You observe my travels and my rest;
You are aware of all my ways…

For it was You who created my inward parts;
You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I will praise you because I have been remarkably and wondrously made.

These verses are only a sampling of all the ways the psalmist realized that God knew him.  I would suggest that you take the time to slowly read the whole psalm.  Even better, try reading it out loud, as if the psalmist’s words were your own.

God knows more than your name.  He knows YOU.  And He wants you to know Him.

Keep Pressing,
Ken