Who Ya Gonna Call?

My youngest grandson is named Jacob.  He’s a feral little critter, but sweet as soda pop. And yes, I’m quoting the song “Rocky Top.”  It’s expected of us UT fans, and I don’t like to disappoint.  We have a wonderful song we sing at church called “Same God.”  The opening lyrics are rather simple and it goes like this…”I’m calling on the God of Jacob.” My grandson sings this at the top of his lungs because he thinks the song was written for him and about him.  It is my fervent hope that he believes this his entire life.  I hope he always believes this is a personal song written by God just for him. 

I have been thinking about this.  How personal are the songs I sing every Sunday?  Do I sing the lyrics with my heart engaged, or do I just mouth them?  Am I taking it personally?  I try to do so, but I’m not always successful.  As we age, life happens, and our brains get in the way.  Our minds are preoccupied with a million different things rather than singing, “I’m calling on the God of Elaine.”  Tonight, as I write these words, my thinking has changed. And I have my grandson to thank for that.  Tonight I’m thinking about God in a little different way. 

Tonight I’m calling on the God of Edna.  I’m calling on the God who gifted her with the ability to play the piano totally by ear.  She raised four God-fearing children, played piano in every church in Knoxville, told stories to her grandchildren, cooked Nanny-biscuits, made Black Cherry Koolaid, and loved without limits.  I’m calling on that God.

I’m calling on the God of Henry.  I’m calling on the God who walked with him daily—theOne who he talked with, relied on, and knew on an intimate level that I can only image.  He was an example to everyone who knew him. He had a dry wit, a steadfast heart and a desire to see his children serve the Lord.  I’m calling on that God.

I’m calling on the God of Nicholas, a young man whom I love and respect.  Nicholas writes a blog, works hard, and desires for everyone to know who God truly is.  He consistently points the way by his actions, as well as his words to the One who loves us.  I’m calling on that God.

I’m calling on the God of Lucille. Lucille was an elderly woman in my church, who obeyed God and asked a younger version of myself who was sitting alone in the pew to sit with her.  And sat with me every Sunday until I felt comfortable enough to branch out.  I’m calling  on that God.

I’m calling on the God of Taylor, a young woman at my church.  She is a talented photographer, but her heart is truly a heart that seeks God daily for direction.  She is beautiful, but her beauty is not just physical—it’s her pure and innocent heart.  I’m calling on that God. 

I am not in any way diminishing the lives of the patriarchs in the Bible.  They were pioneers. I never want to forget that. What I”m saying in no way reduces the Bible, nor does it make their lives reductive. But I also want to remember the same God who guided David’s slingshot is the same God who Edna served.  The same God who gave Moses the ten commandments is the same God Henry bowed his knee to.  The same God who was gave us his Son, Jesus, is the same God Lucille followed.

Tonight, I’m calling on the God of Jacob—the God who never sleeps.  The God my grandson sings to when he sings this song.  I’m calling on Him to reveal Himself to me through His word. I’m asking Him for a heart that’s simple, pure, holy.  I’m kneeling humbly at his feet and asking Him for a child-like faith—a faith so that I can confidently sing “I’m calling on the God of Elaine” and mean it.  And not only mean it, but know He hears me, responds and moves. I’m calling on that God.

God Bless.