Just like Dad

I've been called Mark my whole life.

It started as a kid in school in my hometown, with elderly teachers at school who remembered my dad. I think "Mark" may have been the abbreviation for "Mark's boy."

Then I noticed it happened several times at Blinn Junior College in Brenham. Dad didn't go to school there, but Brenham's not so far from Bellville. Two years later I moved to Waxahachie, Texas to attend another school. Dad's never even been there! And, within a couple of months, someone called me "Mark".

As a young adult over two hundred miles from my dad and his elderly grade school and high school teachers, it was pretty weird to be called after him.

Then I moved to Africa. And people here​ call me "Mark"!

It's happened several times in the last six years, most recently at Starbucks (hence the photo). I laughed and thought, at least my Dad is worth being named after.

Then it occurred to me: I'd like to be so unavoidably connected to my Father in heaven, that His name and His reputation follow me around everywhere I go. Do I remind people of Him?

"If my people, who are called by my name," He says. He says it several times in the Old Testament.

Called by His name. May our lives be worthy of it. May His character shine through, and His name be glorified.

He's worth being named after.