DR. FRENCH O'SHIELDS My wife, Alma, and I have differing opinions on a matter. Can you believe that? If you are married, of course you can. If you aren't, believe me this is not unusual.

Gratefully, it is not a big issue but it is one that keeps surfacing. It concerns, as you might expect, something she terms and I admit is one of my shortcomings.

It has to do with names. I am not good at remembering names. Faces I can remember. Putting the correct name with the face is sometimes a problem. Admittedly, this has caused some embarrassing moments.

On one such occasion I had just returned from walking to mail a letter. When I returned home Alma asked, "Did you see anyone you knew?"

"Yes, I did. I saw Molly and she was walking her little dog as she always is. I greeted her with a very friendly, 'Hi, Molly, how are you?' She was not as friendly as she usually is. I do not know what was wrong with her."

"Yes, I know the lady you saw and I can tell you what was wrong," Alma explained. "The real question is what is wrong with you, French. The lady's name is Betty! MOLLY IS HER DOG'S NAME! She probably was not pleased that you called her by her dog's name!"

A Roman Catholic Bishop named Nick (I am sure of this) and I became good friends. We met at a large conference for pastors in Atlanta, Ga., where we both spoke. I asked my new pastor friend if he ever had a problem remembering names. "Oh, I used to be terrible with names. I went around calling persons by the wrong name all the time, but not anymore. I solved that problem."

Eager to learn his solution I hastily requested, "Please tell me your secret."

"Oh, no secret. I just started doing this: Every man I spoke to, I call "John¿" and every woman I call "Mary." No exceptions!

"How did that work for you?" I inquired.

"Good! Since both are good Biblical names, they seemed so impressed with my display of spirituality¿ they did not seem to mind it wasn't their real name."

That might work well for a Catholic Bishop in the ecclesiastical hierarchy, but I quickly concluded for a Presbyterian pastor it was not a workable solution.

Then what is the solution?

This is where Alma and I differ. She suggests I just not attempt to call people by their name. She may be right, but being a male type, I respond with my defense. People like to hear their name and it makes them feel good. She supports her opinion with: "Yes, but not if it is the wrong name." Oh my, she may be right again.

The last word. To this day, I have no workable solution. But, as they say in sports, I keep winning a few and losing a few. When I do get the name right, it makes both them and me feel good and let's them know I care.

When I get the name wrong — the chances are I will not even know it — they are too kind to correct and embarrass me. Actually, I think they give me credit for trying.

One thing I do know. It sure makes me feel good when people call me by name.

And even more important, when I read in my Bible (John 10:3) that since by faith I am one of His Sheep, Jesus Christ, my Savior and Shepherd, "CALLS ME BY NAME," it affirms to me how incredibly real is My Heavenly Father's love and care for me.

Rejoice my Christian brother and sister. The Good Shepherd knows your name also ... whatever it is!

(Dr. French O'Shields is a Gaffney native and a retired Presbyterian minister.)