How do you know my name?

"How do you know my name?"

I hear this a lot at work, actually. I have the honor of working at Project Transformation Tennessee, a nonprofit that runs summer and afterschool programs for children and youth in high-need areas through the leadership of young adults.

"How do you know my name?"

I have just finished orienting a new volunteer for our afterschool program. We walk out of the training room and into the program space. I see a friendly face running up to see about this stranger—but soon friend— standing next to me.

“Mrs. Suzy, this is Alejandro. Alejandro, this is Mrs. Suzy,” I say.

“How do you know my name?”

“Because Mr. Bryant told me about you! And because your big brother goes to PT.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alejandro,” says Suzy.

I slowly open the door and tip-toe into a site church classroom with my large-lens camera ready to capture moments of a young adult intern leading children in an art component. (This usually attracts a lot of attention, as you can imagine.)

“Can I hold your camera? Can I see the pictures you’ve taken? Can I take a picture? Please please please?”

“No Madelyn, I want to see you be creative with your art project!”

“How do you know my name?”

“Because you’ve been coming to summer camp at PT for three years now.”

I’m helping to prepare for a Family Fun Night— a community block party— when a meal volunteer, Luke, asks me if there is anything he can do to help set up in the gym. I scan the room and notice Camille, a third grader, hanging streamers with tape.

“You can go and help Camille hang up streamers!” I say.

Luke jogs to the other side of the gym and greets Camille. I don’t hear exactly what he says, but I hear her say (well, actually yell):

"Wait, how do you know my name?”

I don’t hear Luke’s response, but Camille takes it as acceptable and the two continue to set up decorations that will welcome family and friends to the party.

In all of these situations, the child rarely, if ever, says anything after I or another adult offer an answer to their surprised question.

It’s almost like they pause and stop to soak in the feeling of being known.

Isn’t this a great reminder to stop and soak in the feeling of being known by God?

But now, this is what the Lord says- he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: "Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine." -Isaiah 43:1

God knows us by name!

My hope and prayer for this year at Project Transformation is that every child, every young adult, and every volunteer feels they are known and delighted in by God and one another.

Let it be so.

Taylor Davenportname, loved, known