Oh, I know who you are.

This time last year, there was a mad rush in one wing of our church building to complete a three floor renovation project.

The contractor was doing everything humanly possible to be substantially finished by August 31.

It wasn’t perfect, but the deadline was met. More importantly, the county’s building inspector granted permission to occupy that wing.

In the year that has passed, we’ve spent time with punch lists, uncooperative technology, ambushed water intrusions, and attempting to learn the nuances of the new HVAC system.

HVAC systems are always a challenge. Perhaps the biggest hurdle comes from monitoring our own individual human thermostats.

A few weeks ago, in the neighborhood where our church is located, a powerful late afternoon thunderstorm got our attention. This storm knocked out power to a wide section of the neighborhood.

At the church, the storm disabled two phases of electricity to our building. Full power didn’t return to us until the next afternoon. But in the long minutes when the storm was in action, the flickering ups and downs of the electrical service to our building reeked havoc on some of the components for the new HVAC system.

Because of a shortage of parts from the manufacturer, we’ve been patiently awaiting for repairs.

Recently, one of the technicians for the company was in our building to recheck the monitoring technology.

I wasn’t sure if he remembered me. So, I reintroduced myself.

As I was doing this, he responded to me, “Oh, I know who you are.”

I didn’t know how to take—“Oh, I know who you are,” but we had a good conversation about the challenges involved in getting the HVAC issues solved.

In all my years of working in public schools, we had plenty of challenging students. Students that we knew who they were because rightly or wrongly, their reputations preceded them. For a few of these students, living down their reputations was virtually impossible.

Over time and with the right support, a handful of those students figured out how to make adjustments. Their challenging behaviors became less intrusive.

And then there was a group that no matter what they tried, they just could not keep from getting attention in all the wrong ways. And of course, no matter what the school tried, we could never quite make the right connection, or build the right relationship to help the student adjust.

“Oh, I know who you are,” made me think about my own life.

How do people see me?

Does my reputation precede me?

Do my imperfections create challenges for me and the people I encounter on a daily basis?

Sometimes, I wonder if God really knows who I am?

With so many people in this world, what does God truly know about me?

My guess he knows that my morning prayer routine is too long.

He probably knows that I’m a constant, repetitive whiner.

This is especially true when life goes wrong for good people. I whine to God, “what are you thinking, where are you, how could you let this happen?”

Psalm 139 verse 13 implies that God has known me since I was knit together in my mother’s womb.

In Matthew and Luke, the scripture states that even the hairs of my head are numbered. This is another indication that God knows me down to the hairs on my head.

At this stage of my life, I’d say the hairs on my head are disappearing at such a rapid rate that an accurate inventory is useless.

I wonder if my shrinking hairline decreases my value in the eyes of the Lord? Am I still of more value than the sparrows of the field?

I have some days on my wobble through life when I think the sparrows of the field are of more value than me.

On those valueless days, I ask myself— why aren’t you doing more?

Where is your voice?

Why aren’t you finding your voice to speak out?

How can you let all of the injustice of this dismantling pass by you in silence?

Maybe God really does know me.

Maybe he knows that I’m nothing more than a whiny old buzzard with no backbone who is gripped by fear of what people will think of me when I finally assert my muted voice.

My wife and I are playing catch up with the Apple TV series—Ted Lasso. We have made it into season three.

In prepping his team, Coach Lasso shares wisdom with his soccer players. Coach Lasso has a way of blending on field wisdom into life wisdom for his players.

I was taken by these words from the script of Episode 12 in Season 2: “To quote the great UCLA college basketball coach, John Obi-Wan Gandalf, “It is our choices, gentlemen, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”

Of course, Coach Lasso was referencing legendary UCLA basketball coach, John Wooden. Coach Wooden not only taught his players the essential details of playing college basketball, but attempted to equip his players about essential life skills too.

“Oh, I know who you are” really comes down to this—do I know who I am?

It is my choices that reveal if I really know who I am.

Regardless of womb knitting, counting hairs, and sparrows, God is watching my clock.

In the remaining time he has allocated for me, I must be wiser. I must find out who I really am.

How about you?