Names

We took the boys to church yesterday as part of Nana Camp. I proudly and lovingly sat beside them and felt my heart warm as I watched and listen to them sing the hymns. I was so present in the worship service that I completely forgot that I was supposed to be playing the offertory with my mom.

As the usher began the offertory prayer and I bowed my head to pray, I heard a loudly whispered, “Dee!” coming from piano bench. I looked up, saw my mom getting our duet music ready, whispered, “Ooooh!” and immediately moved to my place on the piano bench. I was so amused at myself for forgetting that I was supposed to play that I laughed through a good portion of the piece. Added to that, I knew the boys were giggling at me from their pew and that two of the choir members were carefully watching my mom and me (although I didn’t know why at the time). Needless to say, our offertory yesterday wasn’t our best, but it was certainly memorable.

And what made it more memorable is that it was followed by a five-year-old unabashedly offering her dancing as her worship during the next hymn and then being called by name from the pulpit during the introduction to the pastor’s sermon on being called by name.

Names.

Names are so important.

Whether being said in response to a mess-up like my name was called yesterday or whether being called for something beautifully sweet like the five-year-old’s or whether being called out of compassion and love like Mary’s was called in yesterday’s scripture (John 20), names are important.

Names are the written and sounded symbols of who we are. They hold our personalities, hopes, dreams, fears, failures, moments of forgiveness, and stories of redemption.

While none of us want to hear our names called for messing up—as the pastor said on Sunday morning, when we hear our First, Middle, and Last Names, then we know we’re in trouble!—all of us want to hear our names called for doing something good, for being respected, for being loved.

In thinking about names, I realized, maybe for the first time, that some people go for days, or sometimes weeks or months, without hearing their names. What’s more, some people go a lifetime without hearing their name lifted in prayer. There is something special about hearing your name lifted in prayer.

When is the last time someone called your name?
Or, as I’ve been thinking today, when is the last time you called someone’s name in prayer?
Or someone called your name in prayer?
Or, as the pastor hinted yesterday, God called your name as you were praying?

Names are important.

And evidently when my friends and choir members Jes and Rebecca think of Sandra and Deanna, they think of a mom and daughter who both raise their eyebrows in the same way at the same moment while playing their offertory piano duet.