What's in a Name?

Twizzler, Litey, Housey 2, Clothesy-Potty, Sweetie-Sweetie-Holy-Holy, Baby Pups Pink, Blon-Blon, Sister Cordy . . .These are the names given to some very special members of the Miller extended family.  I have no idea how they were determined, but every time a new "member" is adopted, special thought and consideration is put into this process as my three year old studies the face of any new stuffed animal and comes up with what they will be called.  I'm often tempted to get her more just to hear what name she'll come up with next!  I might have a suggestion, but those are never taken.  These are her babies, they belong to her and she takes naming them very seriously.  We were at a college retreat last weekend and had the rare opportunity of just taking Lexi with us.  The other two stayed with their cousins since we had just been with them for the funeral of my husband's grandmother.  Of course, given the fact that our baby girl has her daddy tightly wound and wrapped around all of her fingers, it took less than five minutes of arriving and needing to pick up a couple of things at the little country store that Sweetie-Sweetie-Holy-Holy (appropriately named, I thought, at a spiritual retreat) had found her way into Lexi's lap.  This new little stuffed animal puppy was richly welcomed and given the royal treatment, never leaving Lexi's side.  Not too long after, Lexi noticed a small tear where the thread had begun to unravel and was very upset that her puppy was hurting.  My less-sentimental-we-should-get-what-we-overpaid-for instincts kicked in and I wanted to replace this new unraveling toy for a better one.  I proceeded to tell Lexi that we would take her to the puppy doctor and get her "taken care of."  I got the exact same puppy, no rips and no difference in appearance, and proudly presented "healed" Sweetie-Sweetie-Holy-Holy to my daughter.  Problem solved!  Lexi held her puppy, studied her quickly and with sad eyes, looked at me and told me that this was not, in fact, Sweetie-Sweetie-Holy-Holy, but her brother, and that made her very sad.  For the life of me I couldn't find any difference in the two, but she knew.
    That night I looked up at the sky in the mountains to look at the stars in a place far from city lights.  I am continually in awe and overwhelmed with their vastness.  But what amazes me more is that God has named every one of them and always knows if one is missing.  The sheer thought of coming up with that many names is exhausting!  Looking up at them from one moment to another, I would have no idea which was which.  But God does.  That comforts me.  I love that a God with that kind of greatness, power and strength carefully constructs and names even the stars, that have no souls.  How much more does he uniquely know me and have the ability to care for me?  He is so grand and yet so intimately connected to each of us individually, down to knowing the number of hairs on my head.  He knows me and uniquely cares for me.  And in that thought, I am humbled and I am grateful.

Isaiah 40:26

 Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
    Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
    and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
    not one of them is missing.

Luke 12:6-8

⁶ Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. ⁷ Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.