Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he
sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music
Minister at Stewartstown UMC in
PA.
Nowadays,
I think they call it identity
theft.
Back in the
day,
I just called it bad
memory.
I must admit that I am not the
greatest
at remembering
names.
As a pastor, it is a
skill that
I am trying to
improve.
Over the
years,
I have been
called
Steve,
Dan,
and most of all
Doug.
I must have a mono-syllabic
face.
When I was in college years
ago
in a far off
city,
I went to a small group Bible
study
with a couple of
friends.
At the first
gathering,
I introduced myself as
Dave.
Since I was new to the
group,
the leader, named Jim, asked me
to share with the group
some information about
myself.
It went something like
this.....
Tell us a little bit about
yourself, Doug.
I gently corrected him regarding
my name
and went on with my
story.
Later during the study,
as we were discussing a
topic,,
Jim looked at me and
said,
What do you think about that,
Doug?
Uh, my name is Dave, I
said
and then I am sure I
offered
a deeply profound theological
answer to his question.
At the end of the
study,
we closed in
prayer.
During the prayer, Jim
said,
Lord, we are so grateful
that you brought Doug to this
gathering tonight.
Trust me,
I felt
blessed.
I was 3,000 miles from
home.
I had just arrived in the city two
weeks prior
knowing no
one,
and now,
I had become
Doug.
My two friends apologized to
me
on the ride
home.
A week
later,
I decided to go again with my
friends to the study.
Sure enough,
Jim warmly welcomed me
back,
gave me a strong
handshake,
and said,
It's good to see you
Doug,
I hope you have had a great
week!
Oh it was great, I
said....
until I got here, I
thought.
I reminded him that
when
I had come out of the
womb,
my mother uttered the name, David,
not Doug.
Two more Bible studies came and
went.
I was actually enjoying the
study
and meeting new
people.
But to Jim,
I was the nicest Doug that he had
ever met.
My friends convinced me to go with
them to the church
that was sponsoring this Bible
study.
The next
Sunday,
we went to this very large
church
which had a college Sunday School
class
with over 200 in
attendance.
It felt a bit intimidating coming
in the first time.
At the beginning of the
class,
the leader of the class asked the
Bible study leaders
to introduce any first
timers.
Sure enough,
Jim stood up across the
room,
looked across at
me
and said,
I'd like for you to meet
Doug.
He's from
Pennsylvania
and he's attending school
here.
The nomenclature virus had now
just spread to 200
people.
Within
seconds,
the hospitality squad converged on
me
with the precision of a SWAT
team,
and pinned me with
a
Hi! My name is Doug
name tag.
The group was then instructed to
greet people around them.
Doug never felt so warmly
greeted.
As I sat down in my
seat,
I made a
decision.
For one hour a
week,
(well, two counting Bible
study)
I was going to be the best Doug
that I could be.
During the next few weeks an
interesting phenomenon developed.
There arose within the
class,
a large group or
people
whom I now refer to as
Dougites
because they knew me to be
Doug.
There was
however,
a small group of
Davidites,
who were
determined
to start a
revolution
to convince the class and the
world,
that I was
David.
Occasionally,
the large class would break into
small groups
to discuss the topic of the
day.
Often, I would end up in a group
made up solely of
Dougites.
Those were the easy
days.
It was when one or
two
Davidites infiltrated into the
small group
that things got
interesting.
At some point in the small group
discussion.
I would answer to the name
David.
The Dougites would register
confusion.
Oh, he's not Doug,
the Davidites would say.
He's
David.
The Dougites would
ask,
Is Doug your
nickname?
Doug would answer
No.
Your middle
name?
Another no from
Doug.
No, I'm just a Doug named
David,
I would say,
not wanting to expose Jim's
weakness for remembering
names.
By the time we reached winter
retreat,
the class was about 50%
Dougites
and 50%
Davidites.
This made for a very interesting
two days up in the mountains.
I had become so used to answering
to either name
that I didn't think about it
anymore.
That was until we got to a group
mixer
where all 200 of us had to form a
single line
alphabetically by first
name.
It was the point of
reckoning.
I had to
choose.
Was I Doug or was I
David?
Let's just say in that
moment,
I caused a great deal of
confusion
in the D section of the alphabet
line.
Dean was telling me I was in the
wrong place.
Dina thought I was
confused.
God bless Denny who tried to push
me to another part of the line.
Finally I
said,
I'm David!
The Davidites
roared..........
Vive la
revolucion!
It took awhile to convert all the
Dougites
but it happened
eventually.
It's important to know who we
are.
We spend much of our early years
trying to figure that out.
Some people never find
out.
Perhaps the key in knowing
who we are
is in understanding
whose we are.
David means beloved.
I will never again dismiss that status in my
life.
God loves each one of us so much
that He describes Himself in the book of
Isaiah
much like a star crossed junior higher
who is in love for the first time......
I will never forget you.
Behold, I have inscribed your name
on the palm of my hands. (Is 49:15b-16)
In Jeremiah,
God says that he knows who we
are
before we were formed in the womb.
(Jer 1:5)
May you always know your name
and thus know the depth of the
passion
that God feels for
you.
As for
Doug......
may he long live in the body for
which he was intended.
As for
Jim........
David says
hi.
.
at least nobody ever called him "Robert".
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