A Song That Surprised Me

I first heard “I Know A Name” at home while running through the worship setlist for an upcoming Sunday service. Up until then I mostly stuck to the old hymns — with the occasional early-2000s worship anthem thrown in. But recently, some newer songs have started sticking with me…

This song, a collaboration between Elevation Worship and Brandon Lake, stood out right away. It’s soulful, polished, with big-production vibes. I didn’t know who was singing it at the time, and honestly, it didn’t matter. It just had an appeal I couldn’t ignore.

In rehearsals, as I sang it with the choir and worship team, I noticed something was shifting. The conviction in the voices around me was growing.

But when Sunday morning arrived and the song was sung with everyone present, “different” wasn’t strong enough to describe it. From the first note, it took off and soared. It. Was. Off. The. Chain.

And by the time the final note faded, I’d lost all track of time. My eyes were wet. Maybe it was just me — I don’t care. It was real.

I’ll try to tell what it felt like.

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The song opened with soft piano playing simple notes, like the first shy raindrops hitting leaves. Then came this bold declaration:

I know a name that can silence roaring waves
I know a name that can empty out a grave
I know a name, it’s the only name that saves
And it’s worthy of all praise

By this first chorus, the thunder started rolling in:

I call You, Jesus
I call You, I call You Healer
Risen and reigning in power
Something comes out of the grave
Every time I call You, Jesus
I call You, I call You Savior
Worthy of glory forever
Something comes out of the grave
Every time I call Your name

That phrase — something comes out of the grave — wasn’t throwaway.
It calls back to Ezekiel, Romans, and Ephesians.

Then the first real thunderclap hit:

I have a King with dominion over death
He holds the keys in His holy nail-scarred hands
He is the heel
That has crushed the serpent’s head
Our resurrected Great I Am

That’s Revelation, Genesis, and the Gospels packed into four lines.
The song then moved into a chant:

Every time I call Your name
Chains break, dry bones wake
Every time I call Your name
The gates of Hell shake

A brief piano interlude gave room to breathe before the lyrics echoed 1 Corinthians 15:

Where, oh death, is now your sting?
And where, oh grave, your victory?

Then it went full-throttle — triumphant, wave after wave of Dead-things-come-alive …

Every time I call Your name
Chains break, dry bones wake…
Dead things come alive
In the name of Jesus…

Finally the storm cleared. Clouds parted. Light returned—kind of like Elijah’s moment in 1 Kings, when God wasn’t in the wind or the fire, but in the whisper:

So much power in the name of Jesus
Found my healing in the name of Jesus
I was healed in the name of Jesus
Found my freedom in the name, Jesus
Found my breakthrough in the name, Jesus

I didn’t expect a worship song to make me feel different. And it wasn’t anything anybody did — judging by many faces in the room; it was unmistakably God among us.

Maybe it’s only that things can shift like that when we give them room to do the work. I don’t know. I’ve never written anything like this before but I’ve struggled for two days now just trying to get it down.

What I’ve experienced does give me the confidence to say this:
God is alive and well and doing something in His church right now — from the looks of it, not just where I worship, but all around us, quietly and steadily, through ordinary people showing up— not with all the answers, but with a growing desire to take the next step with Him, whatever that may be.

So don’t believe the lies of the enemy.

Whatever you’re going through, God is with you; no matter what your senses shout.
Don’t forget that as you keep going.

If you’ve never really looked into the name of Jesus before—maybe today’s a good day to start.