Holy, and He Knows My Name

Track three is the last of the gathering songs, and it answers the question the first two raised - if a room is being called together to worship, who exactly have they been gathered to? This song is the answer, and it is a country waltz, tender and unhurried, because the answer needs both awe and intimacy at once.

The whole song is built on a hinge, and the hinge is the and in the title. Every verse climbs up into the vast - he hung the stars and named them all, he weighed the mountains in His hand, he measured out the sea - and then pivots hard down to the near. The God who never lost a star has never lost His own. The hands that hold the mountains up came down and laid hold of me. Transcendent, then personal, every single time. That is the whole Christian wonder in one structure.

And verse three carries something from the framework I have spent years on. He did not learn my name from me, He knew it from the start. He wrote it in the Lamb's own book. He did not discover your name - He authored it. The bridge sets the two poles side by side straight out of Isaiah, the high and lofty One whose name is Holy, who dwells in the high and holy place, and dwells with the lowly. He did not stay up in the heights. Down to a field where I stood lost, He called me by my name. Holy - and He knows my name. Both at once, or it is not the gospel.