by Rhonda Rhea @RhondaRhea

My hubs and I were out for pizza one Sunday after church. He had just preached three services and was so tired. Actually, it was some sort of post-pastoring zone of tired that’s about five degrees beyond regular tired. He bowed his head to pray over our pizza and said, “Dear Honey….” Then…a full two-beat pause.

I was sitting there thinking, Wait, that’s what he calls me.

I looked up. He was looking up too. There was an embarrassed chuckle (his). Then, “Oh wow, I accidentally called God ‘Honey.’”

He did a little embarrassed chuckle thing. I went at least five more degrees beyond that because I did the laugh for 20 minutes thing. It was loud and obnoxious laughter. The kind where Richie said—still smiling, because he’s a really good sport—“Are you finished? Because people are starting to stare.” I was indeed not finished. I had at least another five minutes of obnoxious laughter left in me. Come on, ya’ll. He called God “Honey.” If anything could heat up a few extra degrees of public displays of laughter? For me, it was that.

I don’t think God felt disappointed or disrespected when Richie accidentally called Him the wrong name, by the way. Maybe a little disappointed over my public display. But maybe not even that.

[tweet_box design=”default” float=”none” inject=”#Writing #Writinglife #BRMCWC”]Five Degrees of Name-Dropping by @RhondaRhea on @BRMCWC[/tweet_box]

I probably don’t need to point out that Peter and John were better about their public displays. Upright, disciplined, and courageous men, those two. They also had a completely different experience when it came to naming names. I love reading about it in Acts 4. They were in trouble for the powerful preaching and healing in all the public places that was turning their culture upside-down.

In verse seven they were asked, “By what power or in what name have you done this?” Peter didn’t even take a two-beat pause. In verse 10 he came back with “Jesus Christ of Nazareth.” He told them straight out who Jesus was and what He’d done. Even after that, Peter wasn’t finished. He punctuated it with the clear gospel. “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to people by which we must be saved,” (verse 12, CSB).

When it comes to getting out the good news of that gospel, by the power of God, I want to be the Peter and John kind of bold, going all-in in the calling to publicly proclaim The Name. The name and fame of my one-and-only, no-other-name-will-do, Jesus.

Do you know what gives me further pause? The truth that my Lord knows my name too. God said to Israel, “I have called you by your name; you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1, CSB). Through the very salvation Peter testified of in Acts 4:12, I can know this God, the one who knows me, in a way that changes everything. How I think. How I treat others. Where I’ll spend eternity. And as wildly beautiful as the thought is, He inspires, equips, and empowers me to share the message of that salvation, just as He did Peter and John.

He calls me His. He calls me by name. And He calls me to share His name.

Praying now for that empowering to proclaim throughout the kingdom: the name of Jesus. It’s sweeter than the sweetest honey. (Though that’s not what I call Him.)

Rhonda Rhea is an award-winning humor columnist for great magazines such as HomeLife, Leading Hearts, The Pathway, and many more. She is the author of 19 books, including the popular romantic comedies co-authored with her daughter Kaley Rhea, Off-Script & Over-Caffeinated and Turtles in the Road. Rhonda and Kaley have also teamed up with Bridges TV host Monica Schmelter for the Messy to Meaningful books and TV projects. Along with Beth Duewel, Rhonda writes the Fix Her Upper series, and she also co-authored Unruffled: Thriving in Chaos with Edie Melson. She speaks at conferences and events from coast to coast, serves on many boards and committees, and stays busy as a publishing consultant. Rhonda says you can find her living near St. Louis drinking too much coffee and snort-laughing with her pastor/husband, five grown children, and a growing collection of the most exceptional grandbabies.