My grandson knows my name!
Having a grandchild is a magical thing. It’s mind-blowing to watch your children have kids and go through some of the same things you went through. But on top of that, there’s all of these wonderful stages you get to observe without being in the middle of the action.
The sleeping baby. The hungry cry. The cuddle. And then soon, there’s the first smile (even if it is gas!). Not too much longer, and it’s crawling. And walking. Speech is the next to come. Everyone wants to know the baby’s first word—usually “dada” or “mama.”
My grandson is named Clayton. Like a lot of obsessed grandfathers, I wanted him to say my name early. So one day, when he was 16 months old, I picked him up and had a talk with him. We talked about a lot of things like baseball, pizza, and the weather. But I asked him the big question, “Can you say Papa?” He was silent. So I asked again, “Can you say Papa?” Still silence.
But the next day, I got a text from my daughter. Clayton had gone to the front door, tried to open it, and looked at my daughter and asked with a question, “Papa?”
He knew my name!
I was elated! Well, probably beyond elated. My grandson knew my name! He knew that I was a guy who walked in the door, and wanted to hold him, play with him and talk with him even if he didn’t talk with me. Calling me by name was an affirmation of value—he valued me in his world.
And that’s when it hit me: God the Father wants the same for his children—to call him by name, to know him, to relate to him. It gives him such joy, such elation. We show that we value him when we call on him by name.