Karen

Olivia was happily playing in her room, until she came across a little stranger she discovered at the bottom of her toy basket. She had found a long forgotten cloth dolly that had never received much attention. With chickens and new toys from Christmas having recently been given proper names, something about this friend bothered Olivia deeply. This doll didn't have a name.

Running to me in a panic, Olivia called out "Mommy! Help! Help!". A bit confused about what could be wrong, I reached out to her as she bolted into the living room. With the doll in tow, she cried out once again for my help, and shoved it into my hands. I asked her what was wrong, and with sad eyes, she looked at the doll, then back at me, and cried: "Mommy! What's her naaaame?!" The way she asked that question tugged at my heart. She knew we hadn't named this doll, which meant that it didn't belong. In her eyes, it was lost.

Creativity failed me, so I threw out the first name that popped into my head: "Karen. The doll's name is Karen." Olivia's eyes lit up, and she quickly retrieved the doll from my hands. She hugged it and with joy in her voice, declared: "Your name is Karen! I am Olivia. I love you, Karen. You are my friend, Karen. It's gonna be okay, Karen..." As if to reassure little lost Karen, Olivia inserted her name into as many sentences as possible before traipsing back to her bedroom.

I sat down, a bit bewildered at what has just taken place. The scene caused me to think about the importance of names, and especially knowing who we are. Even at two and a half, Olivia knew that something was gravely wrong for a dolly of hers to be without a name. There are many stuffed animals and dolls under Olivia's care, but until that point, they were all loved, accounted for, and known. With a name, Karen was instantly accepted into Olivia's play-world family. She had a home, she had friends, and she belonged.

In comparison, how beautiful it is to belong to the Lord. We are no longer scraping around in darkness, lost, hopeless, and unknown. To know Christ is to become children of the Almighty, adopted into His family, loved and cared for, brought into communion with Him. He gives us a new identity; one that supersedes any name or title we ever held, or may have in the future. We are His and we belong.

Though my current mission field doesn't have me out and about as much as it used to, I'm still challenged to keep my eyes open for any Karens I may encounter. Maybe it's the clerk ringing up my groceries, or someone who admires my baby as I'm running errands...he or she may not have a name yet. Lord willing, I can point them to the One Who gives eternal names, and identities. To the One who in a sense, pulls us up from the forgotten bottom of the toy basket, and gives us a home, for no other reason that His good pleasure, and glory.