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Learn - I AM THAT I AM
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I Am That I Am
Learn
Ex 3:14
And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you. KJV
When Moses asked God his name, God answered, “I AM THAT I AM.” (pronounced Yawek) Yahweh is my favorite name for God because God is so much larger than anything I could ever describe. Simply put, He is who He is. To me, that says it all. I also love Exodus 3:14 because I believe God has sent me to the streets of America. It’s a humbling thing to assume that God is saying to me, “Tell the people of America I AM has sent you,” and yet by claiming His call on my life, that is exactly what I am doing.
I AM THAT I AM takes me to wonderful places. He allows me special blessings mixed in with my Divine Appointments. Wonder of wonders, this trip, I AM let me spend time with the 3 of my 4 nephews. My youngest nephew, Bill, traveled with me for three weeks. Bill and I passed through Atlanta, Georgia where I spent a couple of days with my oldest nephew, Josh and his girlfriend, Penny. Then I AM let me visit my 2nd oldest nephew, Jeremy in Nashville, Tennessee.
Gorgeous, blond headed Jeremy towers above me when he hugs me. When I called to invite him to spend an evening with me, he sounded genuinely pleased. Jeremy had spent the summer interning with a Christian recording label studio in Nashville. I have always been proud of Jeremy. He is a college student and before Nashville, he was a youth intern at his church. His grades are good and he is a musician who uses his music to serve God. Best of all, he is an honorable, sincere Christian. (see pictures under Gallery – Tennessee – Nashville – Grand Ole Opry)
Excitedly, I pulled in to the KOA in Nashville, Tennessee. I called Jeremy, who was just getting off from work, and said, “I’m here.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said. When he pulled up in his Jeep Cherokee, Belle went crazy. We both rushed outside and Jeremy gave me a big hug. It had only been a couple of months since I’d seen him but it felt like forever. I climbed into his car and we headed over to the Grand Ole Opry Hotel.
As Jeremy and I walked past the rushing waterfalls and dancing fountains inside the hotel, we talked. I heard about his summer job. He listened to my stories. We talked about his summer romance that had just ended and his goals for the future. We rode the boat along the Opry river and heard the history of the luxurious hotel.
As we walked, Jeremy opened doors for me and helped me up stairs. “You’ve turned into such a gentleman,” I complimented. “You’ve also developed leadership skills.” When I start to wander and talk, I could wind up anywhere. I’ve been lost before in the giant maze of the Grand Ole Opry Hotel and without Jeremy’s aid, I would have gotten us lost again. He’d never been there before but he kept nudging me in the right direction.
“Aunt Cheryle, I think we want to go this way,” he said as we were looking for the restaurant.
“I think it’s this way,” I said.
“No,” he said, gently. “Let’s try this way.” He was right.
When we arrived at the restaurant, I was a little disappointed. I’d planned to take him out to a fancy dinner with courses. Everyone we asked recommended the same place so that is where we went. When I saw the one page menu that had only sandwiches and salads, I said, “Jeremy, this isn’t what I had planned for you. Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“This is great,” he said, eying the sandwich and fries. “But can you eat here? Is there anything on the menu you can eat?”
I scanned the menu and saw they had chicken wings, celery, and salad. “Sure,” I said.
Then I noticed something tattooed to the inside of Jeremy’s wrist. “Jeremy,” I exclaimed. “You have a tattoo.” I flashed back to his childhood bout with the Chicken Pox. I remembered how indignant I was that it left a tiny scar on that perfect little cheek. Now he had deliberately let someone write permanent ink on the inside of his wrist.
“Aunt Cheryle,” he said. “You’ve seen this. I had it Mother’s Day.”
“No, Jeremy,” I said. “I would remember that. I always notice body art. I ask everyone about their body art. It tells me something about them.”
“I promise you saw it,” he said.
“Jeremy,” I said. “I was distracted on Mother’s Day. Whitney was having trouble with the pregnancy and I was afraid she was losing the baby. I definitely wasn’t paying you enough attention or I would have seen this.”
“We talked about it,” he said. “Maybe it was Bob I talked about it with.”
“Maybe,” I said. “It wasn’t me.” I recognized the letters as Hebrew. “What does it say, by the way?”
“It says Ehyeh. It is a name for God. It means I AM THAT I AM.”
“Well,” I said. “If you have to have body art, I guess that’s the art to have. That is my favorite name for God. If you are wearing His name on your wrist, it means you can’t go through that phase that so many young people go through where you doubt your Christianity.”
“Well,” he teased. “Technically, I could. This is really a Jewish name for God. I could become Jewish.”
“Yes,” I said, “But my Savior was Jewish and He is God.”
About that time, a dark headed nice looking young man walked up. “I couldn’t help hearing you two talking. You sounded disappointed with our menu. It is limited and I want you happy. Tell me what you are in the mood for and I’ll recommend somewhere else.”
I looked up at the restaurant host and told him that we’d decided to stay. “Everyone recommended you to us so we are going to eat here,” I said.
“Well,” he said. “We are the most fun place in the hotel. I can promise you fun.”
I looked at this young man’s arms and noticed the body art covering both arms. “Tell me about your body art,” I said. “I’m a Christian writer and I write about people. Body art always tells me something about people.”
He pulled up his sleeves to show us four giant symbols. “On this arm,” he said, “These are the symbols for love and peace.” Then he showed us the other arm. “This is war and anarchy. You need both for the world to be balanced. I think it is all necessary for life to exist.”
“Kind of the Ying and the Yang or the good and the bad,” I said. “Balance.”
“That’s right,” he agreed.
“See there,” I teased. “I knew I was going to learn something about you. You’re wearing your philosophy. I just found out Jeremy here has a tattoo. He had a name for God written on his wrist. This means I AM THAT I AM.” That opened the door for a conversation about the real source of love and peace. We found out where this young man was from and why he was in Nashville. He wasn’t a Christian but seemed interested in talking with us about it.
“I always wanted a tattoo,” I confessed to these two young men. “I wanted a tiny butterfly on the top of my foot. I was about to get one when I had a pedicure and saw a women in her seventies with a butterfly tattoo on her foot. It looked so awful on that wrinkled foot that I decided against it.”
“That would hurt,” our host said. “It hurts to put tattoos on your foot. They can get ugly if you don’t have them touched up.”
I was a little jealous that this young man was spending so much time with us on my only night with Jeremy but I also felt this was an assignment from the I AM. Jeremy and I left the restaurant and walked through the shops. There, we had another brief spiritual encounter with a sales woman.
When we went back to the campground, Jeremy parked, we got Belle, and walked around the campground, continuing our conversation. Happy to be out of the camper, Belle tried to herd us both and kept getting us tangled in the leash.
It was 98 degrees outside but the KOA had a campfire with chairs around it. Jeremy and I sat down and talked over the gentle crackling sound of the campfire. “Sitting at a fire in August in Nashville,” Jeremy said ironically.
“But it is so nice,” I said. “I love to watch a fire.” Jeremy was good sport so we stayed. Belle, on the other hand, thought we had lost our mind. She didn’t like the fire or the heat and hid on the ground under the seat and behind my legs. I was enjoying the time alone with Jeremy and when a young family walked up, I was disappointed. At first, Jeremy and I ignored them and continued to talk. Then I remembered that I AM had sent me across America.
“So,” I said to the father of the family. “Where are you from?” That opened the door to a long discussion where we found out that the beautiful blond headed young wife had been tragically widowed at age 23 and that the couple’s 10 year old daughter was actually the biological daughter of the mother’s deceased first husband. As a grieving young widow, this woman turned to the Bible but was too distraught for it to mean much to her. We found out they had been married for 2 years and had a 1-year-old son sleeping in the camper.
We also found out that that this family was struggling with what to do about religion and God. The mother was sure she was a Christian but confused about church. The father believed in Christianity but hadn’t asked Jesus to be a part of his life. The father and son had been baptized Catholic and the mother and daughter were baptized Lutheran.
“I went to Catholic church because I was made to go,” the father said. “My parents bribed me to go through confirmation. It meant nothing to me. I’m a fireman. The world is my church. I see so much bad stuff out there.”
Both parents had been disappointed by churches and told their stories. The only one in the family that was going to church was the 10-year-old daughter.
“Do you like your church?” I asked her.
“I do,” she said.
“I can’t go to a Catholic church,” the mother said. “He won’t go anywhere else.” She pointed to her husband.
“I’ve noticed that when Catholics are disappointed by the Catholic church, they usually just stop going to church,” I said. “They may leave the Catholic church but they aren’t comfortable going anywhere else.”
The father looked up. “You’re right,” he said, sounding astonished. “I don’t want to go to a Catholic church but I’m not comfortable worshipping anywhere else.” We talked about church solutions, about how to become a Christian, and about the importance of having children in church.
The conversation probably took an hour of my precious evening with Jeremy. I looked at my watch and said, “Jeremy, you’ve got to go to work tomorrow.”
“I do,” he sighed. “I guess I should go home.” We stood up and walked back to the car.
“I’m sorry that I got so many assignments tonight,” I said. “I wanted the time just with you but I don’t choose these things.”
“You talked to 3 people in just a few hours,” he said.
“That’s my life,” I said. “I can’t write about all of the encounters. There isn’t time.”
“I liked seeing you do your thing,” he said. “I really had a good time tonight.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it again?” I asked. “That I won’t be that aunt that stops by 20 years from now and you feel obligated to spend time with?”
“I’ll do this anytime,” he said. “I liked watching you work.”
“I’m just one person,” I said. “I don’t know how any of these conversations tonight will turn out. I was one tiny piece of their spiritual journey. God will send person after person to the people we talked to tonight.”
“I love you Aunt Cheryle,” Jeremy said as he hugged me.
“I love you too.” He headed to the car and I headed up the hill.
“Where are you going?” he asked..
“There are people up at the building.”
“You’re not done yet?” Jeremy asked, sounding surprised. It was 11:30 PM.
“No,” I said. “I may talk to someone else tonight and I have writing to do.”
As he drove off, I thought about what Jeremy had put on his wrist. It was bold to put God’s most holy name on your wrist. It carried responsibility – a responsibility to remain true to I AM, a responsibility to learn more about Him. It made a statement about who Jeremy was. Whenever I part from the children in my life, I always remind them to remember who and whose they are. It was obvious to me that Jeremy knew who he was. Better yet, he knows The Great I Am. My heart swelled with love and pride for the man Jeremy had become.
I walked up the long hill to the recreation room. I spent an hour in a conversation with man also disappointed with the church. I never did write that night but I went to sleep with the knowledge that I AM THAT I AM loved and cared for me and mine.
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