He knows my name
Last night I had the privilege of leading worship at a service where 7 young men and one young girl (all from the same house group) were baptised. It was a real night to remember for everyone present! I can’t remember how many times I wiped tears from my eyes. In the end, I gave up and just let them flow.
The testimonies were brilliantly expressed by the guys – men who were so different to one another, and yet had this one amazing thing in common : their new-found love for Jesus!
One of the men had been brought up as a Muslim. The cost of becoming a Christian was very real in his testimony. His story was very moving. Some people gave him a standing ovation as he left the pool.
Another was a professional martial arts fighter who met Jesus as a result of losing a match. (Proof that Jesus can and will use anything to speak to us!)
Anthony, our pastor, gave one of the best talks I have ever heard on the subject of Zacchaeus and I just felt hugely overwhelmed.
I felt overwhelmed that Jesus knew Zacchaeus’ name and that He knows mine. I felt overwhelmed that I am in a church where people don’t just get saved, but they get converted. I felt overwhelmed that I am allowed to minister to these people sometimes, even though I am so often such a poor leader. (I really messed up the structure of the last song and had to laugh out loud as the band fumbled to catch up with me! It is humbling to make such a basic mistake in front of a crowd. But it didn’t matter really.) I felt overwhelmed that God has saved me”¦ little me.
He knows my name! I don’t have to tell Him who I am, what I need or where I have gone wrong. He knows it all.
Afterwards, on the way to my car, I saw a girl who is a friend of Jon’s de-icing her car. I had seen her in the back of the church but hadn’t had time to chat to her afterwards. I shouted her name, “Charlotte!” and called her over.
As she came through the shadows to me, I was confronted by a COMPLETELY different person. This was not Charlotte at all. But someone I had never seen. In my life.
She looked at me curiously.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I thought you were called Charlotte!”
“I am,” said the girl.
(Cut to me, looking very confused now…)” Oh”¦Were you just in that church?” I said, lamely. (Now starting to feel very awkward.)
“Er, no. I was just at a friend’s house.”
“I thought you were someone I know called Charlotte.” I said, apologetically.
“Well I am called Charlotte. But you don’t know me,” said the girl, laughing. “How weird is that? Of all the names”¦!”
“Yes, very.” I laughed too.
“I feel like I should say something very profound to you now,” I smiled. “But I have nothing to say.” (I racked my addled brain. Nothing.)
“No worries, I’ll just go back to de-icing my car,” said the WRONG Charlotte.
I got in my car. Now I felt a double portion of foolishness. I had cocked up the last song and now I had harassed a total stranger in the street. THEN on top of that, I had missed the chance to use the opportunity to tell her something about Jesus.
It was only as I drove away that I realised the significance of the encounter.
It was just God underlining the talk for me.
EMS I KNOW YOUR NAME. I also know which EMS you are. I know you. I love you. I care for you. I made you. I died for you.
By the time I got home I didn’t feel foolish anymore. I felt very, very loved.
And I prayed that even though I didn’t say anything to Charlotte of any value whatsoever, something of the strange encounter of a woman walking out of a church might tell her that she is loved too.