God's Whispering Your Name
He's calling YOU-----------by name.
Maybe even by nickname :) Something unique about YOU captures His attention.
HOW He loves us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He is jealous for me.
Love's like a hurricane,
I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of
His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for me.
Oh, how He loves us so
Oh, how He loves us
How He loves us so.
We are His portion and
He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption
by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking
So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns
violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way
He loves us,
Oh, how He loves us
A love like THAT?
There's NO other love that can compare. No one who is more interested in YOU.
No one who is more committed to YOU.
HOW............HE........LOVES.........YOU!
Maybe we cannot understand a love so grand...so beautiful........so pure.......so astounding.
But if we could just KNOW...........that He loves us so relentlessly!!!!!!!!!!!! If only we could REST in that love and
TRUST......with complete abandon.....just TRUST Him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We can TRUST Him and rest in that love.
Maybe you just need to be SURE of Him. Maybe you just need to know He's STILL there. In it all.
I am reminded of a quote from Winnie the Pooh:
"Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh!" he whispered. "Yes, Piglet?" "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."
You can be sure---------He's still there. I promise.
And He's whispering your name. YOURS.
He loves you SO! Your Daddy loves you.
This is an email I received, an excerpt from a book by Max Lucado. It was worth sharing. :)
WHEN GOD WHISPERS YOUR NAME
by Max Lucado
The sheep listen to the voice of the shepherd. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.
—John 10:3
WHEN I SEE a flock of sheep I see exactly that, a flock. A rabble of wool. A herd of hooves. I don’t see a sheep. I see sheep. All alike. None different. That’s what I see.
But not so with the shepherd. To him every sheep is different. Every face is special. Every face has a story. And every sheep has a name. The one with the sad eyes, that’s Droopy. And the fellow with one ear up and the other down, I call him Oscar. And the small one with the black patch on his leg, he’s an orphan with no brothers. I call him Joseph.
The shepherd knows his sheep. He calls them by name.
When we see a crowd, we see exactly that, a crowd. Filling a stadium or flooding a mall. When we see a crowd, we see people, not persons, but people. A herd of humans. A flock of faces. That’s what we see.
But not so with the Shepherd. To him every face is different. Every face is a story. Every face is a child. Every child has a name. The one with the sad eyes, that’s Sally. The old fellow with one eyebrow up and the other down, Harry’s his name. And the young one with the limp? He’s an orphan with no brothers. I call him Joey.
The Shepherd knows his sheep. He knows each one by name. The Shepherd knows you. He knows your name. And he will never forget it. I have written your name on my hand (Isa. 49:16).
Quite a thought, isn’t it? Your name on God’s hand. Your name on God’s lips. Maybe you’ve seen your name in some special places. On an award or diploma or walnut door. Or maybe you’ve heard your name from some important people—a coach, a celebrity, a teacher. But to think that your name is on God’s hand and on God’s lips . . . my, could it be?
Or perhaps you’ve never seen your name honored. And you can’t remember when you heard it spoken with kindness. If so, it may be more difficult for you to believe that God knows your name.
But he does. Written on his hand. Spoken by his mouth. Whispered by his lips. Your name. And not only the name you now have, but the name he has in store for you. A new name he will give you . . .
When God Whispers Your Name is a book of hope. A book whose sole aim is to encourage. I’ve harvested thoughts from a landscape of fields. And though their size and flavors are varied, their purpose is singular: to provide you, the reader, with a word of hope. I thought you could use it.
You’ve been on my mind as I’ve been writing. I’ve thought of you often. I honestly have. Over the years I’ve gotten to know some of you folks well. I’ve read your letters, shaken your hands, and watched your eyes. I think I know you.
You’re busy. Time passes before your tasks are finished. And if you get a chance to read, it’s a slim chance indeed.
You’re anxious. Bad news outpaces the good. Problems outnumber solutions. And you are concerned. What future do your children have on this earth? What future do you have?
You’re cautious. You don’t trust as easily as you once did.
Politicians lied. The system failed. The minister compromised. Your spouse cheated. It’s not easy to trust. It’s not that you don’t want to. It’s just that you want to be careful.
There is one other thing. You’ve made some mistakes. I met one of you at a bookstore in Michigan. A businessman, you seldom came out of your office at all and never to meet an author. But then you did. You were regretting the many hours at work and the few hours at home and wanted to talk.
And the single mom in Chicago. One kid was tugging, the other crying, but juggling them both, you made your point. “I made mistakes,” you explained, “but I really want to try again.”
And there was that night in Fresno. The musician sang and I spoke and you came. You almost didn’t. You almost stayed home. Just that day you’d found the note from your wife. She was leaving you. But you came anyway. Hoping I’d have something for the pain. Hoping I’d have an answer. Where is God at a time like this?
And so as I wrote, I thought about you. All of you. You aren’t malicious. You aren’t evil. You aren’t hardhearted, (hardheaded occasionally, but not hardhearted). You really want to do what is right. But sometimes life turns south. Occasionally we need a reminder.
Not a sermon.
A reminder.
A reminder that God knows your name.
Maybe even by nickname :) Something unique about YOU captures His attention.
HOW He loves us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Oh How He Loves Us"!!!!!
These are the lyrics to that song by the David Crowder Band:He is jealous for me.
Love's like a hurricane,
I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of
His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for me.
Oh, how He loves us so
Oh, how He loves us
How He loves us so.
We are His portion and
He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption
by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking
So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns
violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way
He loves us,
Oh, how He loves us
A love like THAT?
There's NO other love that can compare. No one who is more interested in YOU.
No one who is more committed to YOU.
HOW............HE........LOVES.........YOU!
Maybe we cannot understand a love so grand...so beautiful........so pure.......so astounding.
But if we could just KNOW...........that He loves us so relentlessly!!!!!!!!!!!! If only we could REST in that love and
TRUST......with complete abandon.....just TRUST Him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We can TRUST Him and rest in that love.
Maybe you just need to be SURE of Him. Maybe you just need to know He's STILL there. In it all.
I am reminded of a quote from Winnie the Pooh:
You can be sure---------He's still there. I promise.
And He's whispering your name. YOURS.
He loves you SO! Your Daddy loves you.
This is an email I received, an excerpt from a book by Max Lucado. It was worth sharing. :)
WHEN GOD WHISPERS YOUR NAME
The sheep listen to the voice of the shepherd. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.
—John 10:3
WHEN I SEE a flock of sheep I see exactly that, a flock. A rabble of wool. A herd of hooves. I don’t see a sheep. I see sheep. All alike. None different. That’s what I see.
But not so with the shepherd. To him every sheep is different. Every face is special. Every face has a story. And every sheep has a name. The one with the sad eyes, that’s Droopy. And the fellow with one ear up and the other down, I call him Oscar. And the small one with the black patch on his leg, he’s an orphan with no brothers. I call him Joseph.
The shepherd knows his sheep. He calls them by name.
When we see a crowd, we see exactly that, a crowd. Filling a stadium or flooding a mall. When we see a crowd, we see people, not persons, but people. A herd of humans. A flock of faces. That’s what we see.
But not so with the Shepherd. To him every face is different. Every face is a story. Every face is a child. Every child has a name. The one with the sad eyes, that’s Sally. The old fellow with one eyebrow up and the other down, Harry’s his name. And the young one with the limp? He’s an orphan with no brothers. I call him Joey.
The Shepherd knows his sheep. He knows each one by name. The Shepherd knows you. He knows your name. And he will never forget it. I have written your name on my hand (Isa. 49:16).
Quite a thought, isn’t it? Your name on God’s hand. Your name on God’s lips. Maybe you’ve seen your name in some special places. On an award or diploma or walnut door. Or maybe you’ve heard your name from some important people—a coach, a celebrity, a teacher. But to think that your name is on God’s hand and on God’s lips . . . my, could it be?
Or perhaps you’ve never seen your name honored. And you can’t remember when you heard it spoken with kindness. If so, it may be more difficult for you to believe that God knows your name.
But he does. Written on his hand. Spoken by his mouth. Whispered by his lips. Your name. And not only the name you now have, but the name he has in store for you. A new name he will give you . . .
When God Whispers Your Name is a book of hope. A book whose sole aim is to encourage. I’ve harvested thoughts from a landscape of fields. And though their size and flavors are varied, their purpose is singular: to provide you, the reader, with a word of hope. I thought you could use it.
You’ve been on my mind as I’ve been writing. I’ve thought of you often. I honestly have. Over the years I’ve gotten to know some of you folks well. I’ve read your letters, shaken your hands, and watched your eyes. I think I know you.
You’re busy. Time passes before your tasks are finished. And if you get a chance to read, it’s a slim chance indeed.
You’re anxious. Bad news outpaces the good. Problems outnumber solutions. And you are concerned. What future do your children have on this earth? What future do you have?
You’re cautious. You don’t trust as easily as you once did.
Politicians lied. The system failed. The minister compromised. Your spouse cheated. It’s not easy to trust. It’s not that you don’t want to. It’s just that you want to be careful.
There is one other thing. You’ve made some mistakes. I met one of you at a bookstore in Michigan. A businessman, you seldom came out of your office at all and never to meet an author. But then you did. You were regretting the many hours at work and the few hours at home and wanted to talk.
And the single mom in Chicago. One kid was tugging, the other crying, but juggling them both, you made your point. “I made mistakes,” you explained, “but I really want to try again.”
And there was that night in Fresno. The musician sang and I spoke and you came. You almost didn’t. You almost stayed home. Just that day you’d found the note from your wife. She was leaving you. But you came anyway. Hoping I’d have something for the pain. Hoping I’d have an answer. Where is God at a time like this?
And so as I wrote, I thought about you. All of you. You aren’t malicious. You aren’t evil. You aren’t hardhearted, (hardheaded occasionally, but not hardhearted). You really want to do what is right. But sometimes life turns south. Occasionally we need a reminder.
Not a sermon.
A reminder.
A reminder that God knows your name.
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