It is just about the dumbest
incident I have ever read or heard. I am
unable to comprehend it; it's so stupid. Yet I find myself in it. It seems that a fella, wearing
sunglasses and shirt over the lower portion of his face, walked into a pharmacy
and announced it was a robbery. The
pharmacist toward the back of the store was astonished and couldn't believe it.
He quickly came to the front, not with a gun in hand, not hollering in an
attempt to dissuade the attempting robber but rather, recognizing the voice,
called the man by name and told him not to joke around like this. The
would-be burglar immediately spun around and ran out of the store,
boarding a nearby city bus.
Most recently I found how easy it is to enter into a certain situation with a false sense of
anonymity. Kind of like; when Bettyann says to me I can't wear the dirty shop shirt
and pants to do banking. I respond, that
it will be fine, that no one knows me, anyway. Shielded under the veil of
obscurity, the pharmacy break-in seemed somehow easier to carry out. The man
walked into the pharmacy thinking he would carry out a faceless robbery, when
in fact the pharmacist knew his name, his address, and enough of his character
to suspect it was a joke. Had the pharmacist not recognized him, he might have
followed through with the crime.
A long time
ago, I was startled by the thought the God knows my name. Ever since that day, I struggle in my inner being
when I hear the phrase, "she/he found God." No, God found her/him. I have asked myself the
question time and time again: Whether living with the suspicion that some
flaws, fears, thoughts, or some worries can stay hidden, how has it changed my life,
knowing God is calling out my name in the midst of it? At seventy three am I
still as startled at the sound of my name; jarred to attention by the only
sovereign One in the room? Yep, just like this pharmacy burglar, there are
still times I instinctively feel like running, finding myself suddenly exposed
where I once thought I was safely hidden. But really, what point is there in
running away from Someone who knows my name?
At one time in my life the words of Psalm 139 seemed a harsh reminder that my
fleeing from God was unsuccessful. David’s prayer seemed to leap out, a
stubborn confession of my own inability to hide:
“O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. You
know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You
discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD. You hem me
in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me…Where can I go from your
Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?”
But there has always been one verse (6) in this psalm I unconsciously ignored. Speaking personally
of God’s
omniscience in his own life, David said, “Such
knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” This
morning, I realize there have been many reasons in life that I have instinctively
attempted to run from You. Often times, the thought of
remaining in the presence of Your Holiness, Who knows my name has been far too
much to bear. When I ruminate on it; the thought of it always makes me feel
scolded. I don't wnt t justify myself, but David, too, seemed familiar with the terror of being caught in sin and
called out by name. And yet, he also knew the beautiful mystery of being in the
presence of One who would never stop calling his name, though he made
his bed in the depths or settled on the far side of the sea.
Father, God, in
the fact that You know my name means that You will not stop looking for me even
though I hide. I commit I am going to
apply Your grace much more from this moment on not to turn away, but also know
if my propensity for doing so rears up, You will not abstain from loving me. You,
Father will not stop striving to bring me back into arms that long to gather me:
“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me—just as the
Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep.”
Such knowledge is indeed too lofty for me to attain. Amen
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