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by Budroe
Rated: E · Other · Religious · #1169059
Contest Entry The Writers Cramp October 17th, 2006
He Calls My Name

By: M. B. “Bud” Fields, Jr.


In the early morning darkness, I am slowly drawn from my slumber by what seems to be the far-away sound of someone calling my name. It is a voice that I can barely make out in the fog of sleep. It is a name that I know is mine, yet it is a name that I seldom hear.

Drawing closer, ever closer to full consciousness, there is within me a sudden conflict. I do not want to awaken. I calmly become aware of my breathing, willing my respirations to slow, and deepen. I do not want yet to face the day, or the world, or the work, or the life which today will hold for me. I feel, suddenly, as a child lost in a fog, whose parent is calling, a voice which I recognize yet from a form I cannot see.

“I am here.”

Again, the name I know comes from the far distance of a quiet yet loving voice. I hear the voice of love calling my name, and begin to smile. Awake, yet with my eyes closed I search for the author of the call to me. I know it will not be found outside my shaded mind, but from deep within the center of my being.

“I am here.”

Again, the soft loving voice calls my name, and seems closer now. I clearly hear the voice, yet know well that no sound has been made. This is a voice that I truly know, and trust. This is the voice of one who knows me better than any other in this world. My joy begins to rise, as I recognize the voice which calls me to silent joy.

“I am here!”


“Good Morning, My Beloved!”

“I was hoping we might share just a few moments together before we begin your day. Would that be alright with you, Son?”


And, in the early morning of the dawn, my joy is complete. Now, I will be prepared for the day, regardless of what the day will bring. I know that I will come safely through whatever this world has to offer me on this day. I feel His love surround me, and as I look up into His wonderful face, the joy within me abounds.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dad.”


“Wonderful! I wouldn’t either, My Beloved.”

“Thanks, Dad. I love You, too.”

We talk together for a few moments, there in the silence, and I feel prepared and loved.


“I love you, too, Beloved!”

I raise up my hand, and place it within his. My thumb slowly outlines the wondrously familiar scar in the center of His palm. Looking up into His wonderful face, I am once again the Child I was created to be.

“Where will we go today, Dad?”


“As long as we are together, it really doesn’t matter, Beloved.”

“I just wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for today, Dad.”

And, the love turns to laughter. We are, once again, together. Together, we laugh, and love, and exist in that beginning time once again. Today, we will face the fullness of the day and, no matter what, we will be together. Now, I have no worry, but only wonder. No matter where I go today it will be perfect, as if drawn by the very nail-scarred hand of God--because it is.

I just love it when My Dad calls me by the name He gave me. I love answering the call of that name, in every moment of my life. Because, you see:


“I am the Beloved of God.”

© Copyright 2006 Budroe (kybudman at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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