NAME!

Trawling through cyberspace last week, I came upon something spectacular—to me, at least!

Almost serendipitously, I stumbled upon a website that had archived old copies of The Kuwaiti, the English weekly magazine (now-defunct) of the Kuwait Oil Company (KOC), headquartered in Ahmadi, Kuwait. On a whim, I looked up the issues around my birthdate—you see, I was born in Ahmadi and my father worked for the KOC. So I hunted around in the back issues of The Kuwaiti, searching for birth notices amongst crossword puzzles, classifieds, comics, and cricket scores. To my utter delight, there it was, or … there I was! In the birth announcements of one issue was the notice that yours faithfully himself had arrived—40-plus years ago (OK, OK, “50-minus” it is, these days).

Now you may not consider that a spectacular find, but for me it was!

Born in Kuwait, biding my early years in that land, then raised in India during my teens, and now living in the l. of the f. and h. of the b., this was a spectacular find.

Several decades ago, I needed an official birth certificate as I was planning to emigrate to the U.S. Gosh, the trouble I had to go through! There I was in India, trying to contact authorities in Kuwait. The hospital I was born in was no longer in existence. Who knew where all their records were! I had to enlist a cousin living in Kuwait to go on a massive detective hunt. Finally, success. The Kuwaiti government had, thankfully, stored all the records someplace. (Bureaucrats are not all bad!) There was only one small problem. The entire document was in Arabic! (I’ll spare you the agonies I went through to get it translated officially, in a fashion acceptable to international authorities and visa offices and border security agents!).

All this to say, finding a report of my birth in The Kuwaiti the other day was spectacular, indeed!

Somebody had recorded my birth!

But you know what? Our God is far better than baby accountants, birth records, and bean counters.

The LORD will count
when He registers the peoples,
“This one was born there.”
Psalm 87:6

Everyone else might forget me; everyone else might neglect you; but our God, He does not—not His children. He declares:

“Can a woman forget her nursing child
and have no compassion
on the son of her womb?
Even these may forget,
but I will not forget you.
Behold, I have inscribed you
on the palms of My hands.”
Isaiah 49:15–16

Those who have placed their trust in Christ as Savior are now children of God.

But as many as received Him [Christ],
to them He gave the right
to become children of God,
even to those
who believe in His name.
John 1:12

And His children, He remembers.

… He [God] Himself has said,
“I will never desert you,
nor will I ever forsake you,” ….
Hebrews 13:5

And so we rejoice, not because of birth records found, certificates located, registries updated, or numbers assigned, but because God remembers.

“… rejoice that your names are
recorded in heaven.”
Luke 10:20

It may not exist in Kuwait, India, the U.S., or Scotland, but it is there—in heaven. My name. What a privilege.

Jesus promised:

“He who overcomes
will thus be clothed in white garments;
and I will not erase his name
from the book of life,
and I will confess his name
before My Father
and before His angels.”
Revelation 3:5

Remembered. Named. Confessed. Clothed. For ever. Never erased. And ever. Amen.