We give thanks to You, O God. We give thanks, for Your name is near. We recount Your wondrous deeds. (Verse 1)
The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth. Psalm 145:18
The word (rhema) is near you, in your mouth and in your heart - that is the word of faith which we proclaim; because if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10
When Heather, my oldest, was a toddler we had a play date with a little boy from church. He came, with his mother, to our house mid-morning and stayed for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. "Mommy," said Heather as she munched her lunch, "can I have more Kool-Aid?"
"That's not Mommy!" said her playmate, indignant that she should call me by his mother's name. Then the boy pointed his finger toward his mother sitting across from him at the table. "That's Mommy!"
"No!" cried Heather. "My mommy's name is Mommy!"
"No!" he responded with great fervor. "My mommy's name is Mommy!"
What's in a name? When it comes to someone as precious to us as a mommy, pretty much everything. It means comfort, safety, warmth, wisdom, unconditional love, provision, power. To a kid, Mom and Dad are life. To this day, when my kids call me Mommy, I melt. I know what it entails when they use that term.
Abba. Father. Daddy. His name is near, ringing through the darkest and brightest places of my heart. Yesterday my mind wandered back (not a good direction!) to things it had no business wandering to. There was my Father. His nearness in warning, yes, but also in truth. Standing there in the center of the path I was about to roam. I would have to go past Him to continue my thoughts. I love Abba. I have forged a way around Him before and it broke both of our hearts. His name, and all it means, kept my feet walking in the right direction.
Also yesterday (I need Him pretty much with every breath) I was concerned about procuring a property for a client and felt like I might have blown it for her. "Please, Father, give her this place despite the ignorance of my words." She got the place,and, as it turns out, my words were actually turned for good. It was helpful that I spoke them.
Like a child crying out in the night after a bad dream, I call out the name of my God Who is near. He comes because He knows the sound of His daughter's voice. Because Abba loves me with unfailing, everlasting, unconditional love. God is never far from His kids. And we all get to call Him by His name. Starting with the very first whimper from our newborn mouths: "I believe that Jesus came to die for me and was raised from the dead for my eternal salvation. Because of that, I make Jesus my personal Lord and Savior." The God of the universe hears that prayer from foxholes and mansions, ghettos and suburbs, from the powerful and the weak, the sinner and the religious zealot. He will go to any hell or facsimile of heaven when His name is cried out from a desperate, believing heart. You see, my Father loves to hear His children call Him Abba just like I love it when my kids say, "Mommy."
"I'm right here, baby," I coo in the dark when the dreams are more real that reality. "Mommy's right here."
"I will never leave you or forsake you, " says my Father as He cradles me in His arms. What's in His name? Everything.
The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth. Psalm 145:18
The word (rhema) is near you, in your mouth and in your heart - that is the word of faith which we proclaim; because if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10
When Heather, my oldest, was a toddler we had a play date with a little boy from church. He came, with his mother, to our house mid-morning and stayed for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. "Mommy," said Heather as she munched her lunch, "can I have more Kool-Aid?"
"That's not Mommy!" said her playmate, indignant that she should call me by his mother's name. Then the boy pointed his finger toward his mother sitting across from him at the table. "That's Mommy!"
"No!" cried Heather. "My mommy's name is Mommy!"
"No!" he responded with great fervor. "My mommy's name is Mommy!"
What's in a name? When it comes to someone as precious to us as a mommy, pretty much everything. It means comfort, safety, warmth, wisdom, unconditional love, provision, power. To a kid, Mom and Dad are life. To this day, when my kids call me Mommy, I melt. I know what it entails when they use that term.
Abba. Father. Daddy. His name is near, ringing through the darkest and brightest places of my heart. Yesterday my mind wandered back (not a good direction!) to things it had no business wandering to. There was my Father. His nearness in warning, yes, but also in truth. Standing there in the center of the path I was about to roam. I would have to go past Him to continue my thoughts. I love Abba. I have forged a way around Him before and it broke both of our hearts. His name, and all it means, kept my feet walking in the right direction.
Also yesterday (I need Him pretty much with every breath) I was concerned about procuring a property for a client and felt like I might have blown it for her. "Please, Father, give her this place despite the ignorance of my words." She got the place,and, as it turns out, my words were actually turned for good. It was helpful that I spoke them.
Like a child crying out in the night after a bad dream, I call out the name of my God Who is near. He comes because He knows the sound of His daughter's voice. Because Abba loves me with unfailing, everlasting, unconditional love. God is never far from His kids. And we all get to call Him by His name. Starting with the very first whimper from our newborn mouths: "I believe that Jesus came to die for me and was raised from the dead for my eternal salvation. Because of that, I make Jesus my personal Lord and Savior." The God of the universe hears that prayer from foxholes and mansions, ghettos and suburbs, from the powerful and the weak, the sinner and the religious zealot. He will go to any hell or facsimile of heaven when His name is cried out from a desperate, believing heart. You see, my Father loves to hear His children call Him Abba just like I love it when my kids say, "Mommy."
"I'm right here, baby," I coo in the dark when the dreams are more real that reality. "Mommy's right here."
"I will never leave you or forsake you, " says my Father as He cradles me in His arms. What's in His name? Everything.
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