Someone Never Forgets My Name

The other day, I found this paper tucked into a pile of Ryan's school papers.

I pictured him, hunched over this paper, tongue tip out at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the task at hand. I bet he was glad we didn't name him Nathaniel, Sebastian, Alejandro, or even Leonardo. Four short letters...Ryan, and yet, he forgot to write them down on a school paper, a test no less. So in hopes of helping him remember, he got to write it twenty times.

Thinking about this, I am thankful, so thankful, that God remembers my name. Always. Even when I forget His, I am never forgotten. Humbled. Awed. Amazed. Sometimes I just need a reminder that in the midst of the cares of this life, big or small, that God is there, always speaking my name.

Not "Hey you" or just simply "You", but He speaks my name and if I am listening, I can hear it.
Sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I don't want to hear what He has to say. I don't want to be obedient in whatever He is asking me to do. I want to just live my life the way I want to live it.

But then, softly I hear, "Dianne". That's all, just my name. I shrug it off, like it was a harmless breeze, but then I hear it again. Just as soft, but somehow, it feels louder. I pause. I sigh. I wait.

Then we talk. Usually I do most of the talking because I feel like I need to catch up on things. As if He doesn't know already, right? But I think He likes to hear me tell Him, to just be open and honest before my God.

Peace, so much peace. The problems, the stresses, the life stuff hasn't gone away. The same worries haven't gone anywhere, but now, I am not alone. There is someone who hasn't forgotten my name.

Love,
Dianne