The Ministry of Knowing a Name
The memory is still so vivid. Fresh out of the house after a week of the flu, with two toddlers straggling along, I made my way through a parking lot toward a playgroup on our new army post. I hadn’t met anyone, my husband was training, and I was a complete disaster. A complete disaster heading into a group of moms and toddlers she didn’t know. I thought about turning around, about abandoning ship and taking the kids to the McDonald’s Play Place, where I could be invisible and binge-eat French fries. As soon as I finished my thought, I heard my name over the hum of the usual toddler mom-chatting. “Becky!”
I barely knew the woman shouting and walking in my direction; I had met her through work at another duty station. But hearing my name—being known—meant more to me than ever before. In my lonely hour, someone knew me and called me by name. I have never forgotten that moment and the friendship that grew out of it.
It seems like a small thing, knowing someone’s name, but it’s not a skill that comes naturally to everyone. Early in our marriage, my husband often introduced himself to people, and said, “I promise I’ll try to remember your name, but I know Becky will, so make sure to meet her too.” Our wedding vows should have been to “love, honor, and remember the names of those random people at that gathering five years ago.”
Names used to come more easily to me than they do now, but I have a special reason to keep trying to retain as many as possible. Throughout his ministry, Jesus called people by their names. He started by calling his disciples out of their boats and from behind their tables. He called Zacchaeus out of a tree. When he was resurrected, he gently spoke to his precious friend: “Mary” (John 20:16 NIV).
Time after time throughout Scripture, Jesus draws people in by calling them by name. Knowing a name shows you see the person as more than just another face. When you know someone’s name, you remove a bit of the awkward where do I know her from feeling you get when you see a familiar face at the grocery store. Knowing someone’s name creates a relationship.
Our family is currently living on an especially transient army post. Most families are here for a year or less. After fourteen months, we’ve been in our neighborhood longer than 90 percent of the people around us. This means hundreds of folks living near me are in a new place and are looking for new friendships. They’re looking to be known. So while I don’t do this perfectly—maybe I don’t even do it well—I’ve made a simple ministry of knowing the names of the people around me.
I wish I could give you a bulleted list of tricks I use to do this, but I can’t. I either remember or I don’t. If I forget, I ask again and blame Mom Brain. Mom Brain covers a multitude of forgotten things, including names. After a few times of saying my neighbors’ names, it becomes natural, and it’s no longer weird to shout hello across our fire escapes or chat in the PX. Pretty soon we know each other, and when we know each other, we create a relationship. It’s as easy as learning a name.
Early in our army career, we were stationed in Alabama, where I learned of an interesting Southern phenomenon: the monogram. My friends were putting their children’s names and initials on everything they wore and owned. My mom wrote my name on my school supplies with a Sharpie, so it blew me away that a friend sewed her kindergartener’s name on his backpack. But when my friend sent her kiddo to school, the teacher immediately knew her child and the items that belonged to him. He was known.
Recently we purchased a new lunchbox for my six-year-old. When we finally agreed on a color scheme that matched her backpack, she looked up at me and asked, “Can we have them put my name on it?” She wanted to be known. She wanted everyone to see that the navy-blue lunchbox with pink and green hearts belongs to Grayson, and that she is especially fancy because her name is written in mint green cursive font.
Our names are part of our identities. They’re the first way we’re singled out as unique. They’re specifically chosen for us by the people who love us most. Names are so important to Jesus that he called those who hadn’t met him yet by their names. He showed that he already knew them and that they were beloved. He used names to reveal himself to his friends, and to comfort them in their time of loss. In the same way, he calls each one of us by name. To lead and comfort. To heal and encourage.
What if we begin to see the importance of knowing a name? What if those around us felt seen simply because we said their names? What if we change our little corners of earth by learning the identity of our neighbors, or the nice person who makes our coffee each day? Being known by a friend provides comfort and security. Be the one who cares enough to learn a name.
is a full-time Army wife and mom, and an occasional teacher of first graders. She is an unapologetic follower of Jesus and the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. Becky holds a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education from UNC, and dreams of writing a book. She blogs at beckyyurisich.com.
Photograph © Jon Tyson, used with permission
Thank you. You are so right, we all want to be known.
I recently attended a Fall Revival Harvest event at my son’s church in a neighboring community. I spotted a friend from a distance and made my way through the crowd to speak to her. There on the front pew sat the pastor and his wife from the nearby mega church. As I drew closer they smiled and spoke my name. I’ve met them once or twice at events over the past thirtysomething years. I attend various events at their church, women’s bible study, play group with my grandson, etc., but I’m not a member, they had no reason to know me or to remember my name and yet, they called me by name.