"And the LORD said to Moses, 'I will do the very thing you have asked because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.'"
Exodus 33:17
I remember with each pregnancy the many names we considered for our children. With Son #1, we knew early on that Walker would have to be the middle name if this were a boy since that was not only my maiden name but also Jim's mom's maiden name. There were some good Walker men in both our families. (The irony continues as Jim's brother married a Kansas girl whose maiden name was Walker as well. Apparently Gibson men were drawn to Walker women!) We settled on Austin Walker, and I still love that name.
Son #2 was the only one that we knew was a boy before birth, and we had the name list narrowed to James Addison (my pick) or James Caleb (Jim's favorite). One Sunday morning, about two or three weeks before he was born, our pastor's entire message centered on Caleb, the one who had a different spirit and followed the Lord wholeheartedly. That was one of the few occasions that God has sent a flashing neon sign to me when I asked for His direction on something. As soon as the final "amen" was voiced, I smiled at Jim and said, "Okay--this is James Caleb." I can't imagine him being called anything else.
By the time Son #3 came along, we were compelled to eliminate a number of names we really liked because of former students. (Some of the associations were, well, less than favorable.) If this were a boy, we wanted his name to be different, unique. We decided on Hunter Reid--a name that sounded strong and confident. Unfortunately, Hunter has had to contend for his uniqueness since there are several other Hunters in his grade--even another Hunter Gibson! Maybe this has helped make him strong and assertive. For that I am thankful that he carries this name.
What a decision--to pronounce what our child will be called for the rest of his days. Perhaps we toil so much over the possiblities because we realize that our name is really a treasure to us--when we hear someone call it or when we read it (especially handwritten). On certificates, diplomas, trophies, invitations, birthday cards, gift tags, in the newspaper, even in a text--our hearts quicken upon seeing it. When I see someone in passing, there is a subtle intimacy shared when I hear, "Hey, Lesa" rather than just "Hey." Learning my students' names that first week of school is a top priority because I want these young people to know they matter to me and that I care about them. Their names are a personal treasure.
To think that our Savior knows each of our names is a staggering thought. Each one of us He created, knit together by His perfect design, and He knows us intimately. He knows the very names of those who are calling on Him! That means He hears me when I cry out; He carries my heavy burdens; He comforts me when my heart aches. The One who Himself is the name above all names actually knows mine. Wow! Another reminder of this truth is in Isaiah 43:1-2 when the Lord says,
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are Mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior."
Can there be any greater comfort than to know that God has called us by name and we are His? No matter how deep our valley He is there with us whispering our name.
Throughout the past week these lyrics have echoed: "Your name--is a strong and mighty tower; Your name is a shelter like no other... Nothing has the power to save but Your name..." On those dark days when my heart seems unbearably heavy, I cry out to His name, trusting in its power. This strong tower is faithful to offer me shelter. Surely His name is wonderful, Jesus my Lord.
When we meet someone for the first time, we introduce ourselves by exchanging names. How marvelous though that we don't ever have to introduce ourselves to Jesus because He already knows our name! And unlike those of us who are getting a bit older and forgetful, He will never forget our name. It is indelibly inscribed on His heart, just as our own children's names are written on ours.
"Let the name of the LORD be praised,
both now and forevermore."
Psalm 113:2
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
No Place Like Home
"This is what the LORD says:
'Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.'"
Jeremiah 6:16
Ten years ago this spring this verse came alive for our family. Dunn had asked Jim to transfer to Birmingham, and we wrestled with the Lord for the next 2-3 months. How could we leave Hattiesburg--our friends, our church, our schools, our home? Hattiesburg was home--and had been for almost 20 years! I remember the night, late January maybe, that Jim called a family meeting around the kitchen table. He told us about the transfer and asked the boys and me to please pray with him about this decision. Thus the wrestling match began. For several weeks I explained to the Lord why we didn't need to leave. We were happy--didn't He want us to be happy? We didn't know a soul in Birmingham--why would He send us to the wilderness when we lived in the land of milk and honey? (Mayberry as my brother fondly referred to it.) We were serving Him here, and we were needed here.
Somewhere in the midst the Lord brought me to this verse in Jeremiah, and I began praying that He would show us the "good way." Admittedly my prayers may have been a bit slanted, but I surely desired that "rest for our souls." How many hours Jim and I would talk through the pros, the cons, the possibilities, the realities. If the answer were yes, all of our lives would be dramatically different--our children's futures were on the line. We wanted to trust God, but...
Jim had to let the company know by 8:00 on a Monday morning. He politely told them no; he would just stay in his present position. Oh happy day! What a load lifted as I practically floated around telling everyone, "No--we're not moving! We're staying here!" (even though there was an undeniable gnawing in my heart.) That night Jim was pitching batting practice for Caleb's baseball team when he was beaned in the forehead with a line drive. Now he had thrown countless pitches through his many years of little league coaching and had never been hit before. By the time he got home, his forehead sported a big goose egg, and I remember how deeply discouraged he was. We both felt as though the Lord had said, "Do I have your attention now? You're not following My plan by staying." Still we didn't nail down the decision until a few days later while we were driving back from the funeral of a friend's dad. We recalled the message about this man's life and how he had followed the Lord wholeheartedly. Then we knew. To follow the Lord in obedience, we would have to move. Ugh!
A whirlwind followed as we made plans to move--selling the house, saying goodbyes, trying to find another house, packing, more goodbyes... Our lives outwardly in turmoil but inwardly at peace. At every turn God affirmed our decision (even when this frustrated me); there was no denying He was ahead of us navigating this new path. Even still those first months in Birmingham were incredibly difficult. I missed our friends desperately; I missed Temple Baptist Church and Oak Grove Schools; I missed our home and our yard and our neighborhood. I cried often. "Why did we have to move, Lord? Why?" Sometimes I felt as though He couldn't hear me. But God (there's that beautiful phrase again)--in His love and compassion and His grace--brought us dear friends, another church family, and wonderful schools. Ten years later I can say thank you, Lord, for not letting us have our way. You expanded our territory and Jim's sphere of influence for Your kingdom and Your glory. How many more lives did he touch because we were here?
This chapter in our family history also serves to remind me that this same God who sustained us, strengthened us, and blessed us in the move will do those same things for us in our grief. I know He is with me today just as He was in those lonely days of 2002. I am thankful for the spiritual leadership Jim displayed as he sought our family's prayers, counseled with me about the decision, but ultimately knew he had to make the final difficult call himself. I've often thought about how our boys will one day be faced with similar decisions within their families and how grateful I am for the example Jim set for them.
In faith we moved to Birmingham, leaving behind a place that we loved--our home. Birmingham has become home, but one of the greatest lessons I learned through this was the reality of Philippians 3:20: our citizenship is not here; indeed it is in heaven. We nestle into the community where God has called us, building relationships, serving, struggling, enjoying His blessings. But we were ultimately designed for a different place: a home with our Heavenly Father. He has plans and purposes for our lives here, and we prayerfully seek to fulfill those. With perseverance we run the race marked out before us, but we rest in the hope--the promise, the assurance--that this isn't all--our eternal home is waiting--and there's no place like it. Arms open wide, our Savior will greet us just as He did Jim: "Welcome home, My child!" Oh glorious day!
'Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.'"
Jeremiah 6:16
Ten years ago this spring this verse came alive for our family. Dunn had asked Jim to transfer to Birmingham, and we wrestled with the Lord for the next 2-3 months. How could we leave Hattiesburg--our friends, our church, our schools, our home? Hattiesburg was home--and had been for almost 20 years! I remember the night, late January maybe, that Jim called a family meeting around the kitchen table. He told us about the transfer and asked the boys and me to please pray with him about this decision. Thus the wrestling match began. For several weeks I explained to the Lord why we didn't need to leave. We were happy--didn't He want us to be happy? We didn't know a soul in Birmingham--why would He send us to the wilderness when we lived in the land of milk and honey? (Mayberry as my brother fondly referred to it.) We were serving Him here, and we were needed here.
Somewhere in the midst the Lord brought me to this verse in Jeremiah, and I began praying that He would show us the "good way." Admittedly my prayers may have been a bit slanted, but I surely desired that "rest for our souls." How many hours Jim and I would talk through the pros, the cons, the possibilities, the realities. If the answer were yes, all of our lives would be dramatically different--our children's futures were on the line. We wanted to trust God, but...
Jim had to let the company know by 8:00 on a Monday morning. He politely told them no; he would just stay in his present position. Oh happy day! What a load lifted as I practically floated around telling everyone, "No--we're not moving! We're staying here!" (even though there was an undeniable gnawing in my heart.) That night Jim was pitching batting practice for Caleb's baseball team when he was beaned in the forehead with a line drive. Now he had thrown countless pitches through his many years of little league coaching and had never been hit before. By the time he got home, his forehead sported a big goose egg, and I remember how deeply discouraged he was. We both felt as though the Lord had said, "Do I have your attention now? You're not following My plan by staying." Still we didn't nail down the decision until a few days later while we were driving back from the funeral of a friend's dad. We recalled the message about this man's life and how he had followed the Lord wholeheartedly. Then we knew. To follow the Lord in obedience, we would have to move. Ugh!
A whirlwind followed as we made plans to move--selling the house, saying goodbyes, trying to find another house, packing, more goodbyes... Our lives outwardly in turmoil but inwardly at peace. At every turn God affirmed our decision (even when this frustrated me); there was no denying He was ahead of us navigating this new path. Even still those first months in Birmingham were incredibly difficult. I missed our friends desperately; I missed Temple Baptist Church and Oak Grove Schools; I missed our home and our yard and our neighborhood. I cried often. "Why did we have to move, Lord? Why?" Sometimes I felt as though He couldn't hear me. But God (there's that beautiful phrase again)--in His love and compassion and His grace--brought us dear friends, another church family, and wonderful schools. Ten years later I can say thank you, Lord, for not letting us have our way. You expanded our territory and Jim's sphere of influence for Your kingdom and Your glory. How many more lives did he touch because we were here?
This chapter in our family history also serves to remind me that this same God who sustained us, strengthened us, and blessed us in the move will do those same things for us in our grief. I know He is with me today just as He was in those lonely days of 2002. I am thankful for the spiritual leadership Jim displayed as he sought our family's prayers, counseled with me about the decision, but ultimately knew he had to make the final difficult call himself. I've often thought about how our boys will one day be faced with similar decisions within their families and how grateful I am for the example Jim set for them.
In faith we moved to Birmingham, leaving behind a place that we loved--our home. Birmingham has become home, but one of the greatest lessons I learned through this was the reality of Philippians 3:20: our citizenship is not here; indeed it is in heaven. We nestle into the community where God has called us, building relationships, serving, struggling, enjoying His blessings. But we were ultimately designed for a different place: a home with our Heavenly Father. He has plans and purposes for our lives here, and we prayerfully seek to fulfill those. With perseverance we run the race marked out before us, but we rest in the hope--the promise, the assurance--that this isn't all--our eternal home is waiting--and there's no place like it. Arms open wide, our Savior will greet us just as He did Jim: "Welcome home, My child!" Oh glorious day!
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Open Wide
"For He has not despised or disdained
the suffering of the afflicted one;
He has not hidden His face from him
but has listened to his cry for help."
Psalm 22:24
Part of resuming routine is fulfilling those appointments that have been on the calendar for months. On yesterday's agenda after school was my 6-month cleaning and check-up with Dr. Morrissey, our family's dentist. My day had been good--I just have wonderful students who are staying reasonably engaged for springtime--but as I walked into the dentist's office, I realized I would have to talk with the receptionist about the change in insurance--and why.
As I told her, she gasped and her response prompted my tears: "Oh, my--we just loved him. All of us here just loved him! He was always so kind..." All I could say was, "Yes, he was." I thought, wow--even here at the dentist's office--a place he only visited twice a year (he had great teeth)--he left an impact. As I sat down in the waiting area, my tearful eyes were drawn to the large wooden cross in the front window. Yes, this office had chosen the road less traveled--no eggs and bunnies for Easter, but a bold symbol of Christian faith. I breathed a sigh of thankfulness that this place was filled with believers.
After I was called back, Julie, the new hygienist, offered to reschedule since I was still weeping. (This was very tempting, especially since I'm not a big fan of any dental experience.) Was this another one of those grief ambushes that I hadn't been prepared for? Maybe I had suppressed the "two month anniversary" date throughout the day and now I had to face it? Anyway, Julie was very comforting and just allowed me a few minutes of "being still" time. I asked the Lord what to do, and I just knew He wanted me to stay. Within just a few moments, a wave of peace washed over me as I sensed the very real presence of the Holy Spirit--"I am here. You can do this. You are not alone." The tears subsided; I got my teeth cleaned and was even able to share about God's grace in Jim's healing with Julie and Dr. Morrissey afterwards. As I left, they both promised to join others who are praying for our family.
As I reflected on this experience this morning, Hillsong's lyrics, "Holy Spirit, rain down, rain down" came to mind. That is precisely what it felt like. So I looked up the song to read all the words:
Holy Spirit, rain down, rain down
Oh Comforter and Friend
How we need Your touch again.
Holy Spirit rain down, rain down
Let Your power fall
Let Your voice be heard
Come and change our hearts
As we stand on Your word.
Holy Spirit rain down
No eye has seen, no ear has heard
No mind can know what God has in store
So open up heaven, open it wide
Over Your church and over our lives...
When I read those words "open wide," my heart leaped! That was it! What is the most common phrase you hear in the dentist's office? Of course--"Open wide"! Now for the rest of this resurrection week this is my prayer: that I will keep my eyes open wide to the many blessings surrounding me. These boys that I love so--Austin has been home this week tending to some needed household chores and even walking Maggie with me in the evenings. What a blessing this has been, and he won't have to fly out until Sunday afternoon. Caleb will be coming home in time this weekend so that all four of us will be able to attend both the Good Friday and Easter services together. Hunter has been busy preparing for prom next weekend and putting in job applications around town. (Those two tasks may be related!) The air conditioning is back on at school. (It's been out for several weeks while the new wing is under construction). Surely AC is one of those luxuries that we don't fully appreciate until we no longer have it. Most nights God has granted me the gift of sleep--a real blessing. I really do have the best job in the world--teaching at a wonderful school with kind, respectful students and considerate, dedicated colleagues. So many faithful prayer warriors out there still standing in the gap for our family... Certainly blessings abound, but greater still is the living hope we have in Christ. This week we celebrate our risen Savior, the One who loves us immeasurably. By His wounds we are all healed--from every affliction. Oh, what hope He offers! I Peter 1:3-4 has been my verse of the week: "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade--kept in heaven for you." What a promise! Jim has received his inheritance, and we must wait ours. In the meantime, "We must keep faith, we must keep hope, we must keep courage, we must keep Christ." * Eagerly I await resurrection Sunday. He is risen--He is risen indeed!
* (from Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman)
the suffering of the afflicted one;
He has not hidden His face from him
but has listened to his cry for help."
Psalm 22:24
Part of resuming routine is fulfilling those appointments that have been on the calendar for months. On yesterday's agenda after school was my 6-month cleaning and check-up with Dr. Morrissey, our family's dentist. My day had been good--I just have wonderful students who are staying reasonably engaged for springtime--but as I walked into the dentist's office, I realized I would have to talk with the receptionist about the change in insurance--and why.
As I told her, she gasped and her response prompted my tears: "Oh, my--we just loved him. All of us here just loved him! He was always so kind..." All I could say was, "Yes, he was." I thought, wow--even here at the dentist's office--a place he only visited twice a year (he had great teeth)--he left an impact. As I sat down in the waiting area, my tearful eyes were drawn to the large wooden cross in the front window. Yes, this office had chosen the road less traveled--no eggs and bunnies for Easter, but a bold symbol of Christian faith. I breathed a sigh of thankfulness that this place was filled with believers.
After I was called back, Julie, the new hygienist, offered to reschedule since I was still weeping. (This was very tempting, especially since I'm not a big fan of any dental experience.) Was this another one of those grief ambushes that I hadn't been prepared for? Maybe I had suppressed the "two month anniversary" date throughout the day and now I had to face it? Anyway, Julie was very comforting and just allowed me a few minutes of "being still" time. I asked the Lord what to do, and I just knew He wanted me to stay. Within just a few moments, a wave of peace washed over me as I sensed the very real presence of the Holy Spirit--"I am here. You can do this. You are not alone." The tears subsided; I got my teeth cleaned and was even able to share about God's grace in Jim's healing with Julie and Dr. Morrissey afterwards. As I left, they both promised to join others who are praying for our family.
As I reflected on this experience this morning, Hillsong's lyrics, "Holy Spirit, rain down, rain down" came to mind. That is precisely what it felt like. So I looked up the song to read all the words:
Holy Spirit, rain down, rain down
Oh Comforter and Friend
How we need Your touch again.
Holy Spirit rain down, rain down
Let Your power fall
Let Your voice be heard
Come and change our hearts
As we stand on Your word.
Holy Spirit rain down
No eye has seen, no ear has heard
No mind can know what God has in store
So open up heaven, open it wide
Over Your church and over our lives...
When I read those words "open wide," my heart leaped! That was it! What is the most common phrase you hear in the dentist's office? Of course--"Open wide"! Now for the rest of this resurrection week this is my prayer: that I will keep my eyes open wide to the many blessings surrounding me. These boys that I love so--Austin has been home this week tending to some needed household chores and even walking Maggie with me in the evenings. What a blessing this has been, and he won't have to fly out until Sunday afternoon. Caleb will be coming home in time this weekend so that all four of us will be able to attend both the Good Friday and Easter services together. Hunter has been busy preparing for prom next weekend and putting in job applications around town. (Those two tasks may be related!) The air conditioning is back on at school. (It's been out for several weeks while the new wing is under construction). Surely AC is one of those luxuries that we don't fully appreciate until we no longer have it. Most nights God has granted me the gift of sleep--a real blessing. I really do have the best job in the world--teaching at a wonderful school with kind, respectful students and considerate, dedicated colleagues. So many faithful prayer warriors out there still standing in the gap for our family... Certainly blessings abound, but greater still is the living hope we have in Christ. This week we celebrate our risen Savior, the One who loves us immeasurably. By His wounds we are all healed--from every affliction. Oh, what hope He offers! I Peter 1:3-4 has been my verse of the week: "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade--kept in heaven for you." What a promise! Jim has received his inheritance, and we must wait ours. In the meantime, "We must keep faith, we must keep hope, we must keep courage, we must keep Christ." * Eagerly I await resurrection Sunday. He is risen--He is risen indeed!
* (from Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman)
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