Let me tell you an incident that happened while in the previous body at Shirdi.
There was a lady from Pahalgaon, a simple illiterate devotee. She stored water in her kitchen in three clean, brightly polished brass pots from three separate wells, and she had named the pots Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswathi (after the three rivers). She always referred to them by those names. Whenever any thirsty wayfarer called at her door, she mixed water from all three and offered it to the person as water from three rivers (thriveni theertha).
Neighbours used to laugh at her faith, but her belief that the three wells were connected underground with the three rivers that joined at Prayag was unshakable. Her husband started on a pilgrimage to Kasi (Benares). His mother, while blessing him on his departure, put on his finger her own gold ring and directed him to take good care of it, for it would be a talisman for him.
When he was taking the ceremonial bath at the Manikarnika Ghat, the ring slipped into the waters and could not be retrieved. When he returned and related this story, he said, “Ganga wanted it; she took it,” just to console his mother.
When the wife heard this, she said, “No, no! Mother Ganga will not hanker after the property of a poor old lady. She will accept only what is offered out of love. She will give us back the ring, I am sure. I shall ask Ganga; she is in our kitchen.” So saying, she went in and with folded hands, she prayed before the particular pot named by her as Ganga. Putting her hand in she searched the bottom and, sure enough, she got the ring back! She had come to Dwarakamayi with her husband and mother-in-law.
It is faith that matters; the form and the name on which it is fixed do not matter. For all names are His; all forms are His.