What’s in a Name?

Names matter. When we’re born, the name our parents give us means something. Maybe it’s a family name or a history tied to it, or maybe it’s just a pretty name that both parents loved. Either way, a name matters.

As a child, I would sometimes say my name out loud. I heard everyone else say it, but sometimes I just wanted to hear what it sounded like when I said it. “Julie Ann.” I wasn’t exactly fond of my name for some reason. Maybe that’s the reason I enjoyed playing with dolls. The chance to choose a name was fun!

My first doll’s name was Pun. I have no clue where that originated, but she played a lullabye when I pulled the string on her back. She had blue eyes and blond hair just like me and I carried her everywhere as a toddler.

When I entered elementary school, Santa brought me another doll. I named her Jill. I always loved the name Jill and I remember writing her name on her things. The strap of her chair was monogrammed with her name by yours truly. I loved Jill and I loved her name.

One time I asked my mom where my name originated. My sisters were named after my grandmothers–Jeannette Alise–and my mom’s friend– Cynthia Jane–and my brother–Christopher Ross–was given a variation of a family middle name to complement the first name that my mom just thought was pretty.

Me? Well, Mom and Dad got my name from a song…written about a race horse. Yep, I was named after a horse. Well, that’s what my parents told me when I was 6. You decide for yourself by listening to Mel Tillis’s song, “Who’s Julie?” whether it was a horse or not.

Anyway, names have always meant something to me.

A high school math teacher for a few years, I taught hundreds of students during my short tenure. Certain names evoked certain responses in me. There were the popular names that required me calling them by their first and last name to avoid being confused with other students in the same class. Then there were the names that I had to repeat constantly because they had to be redirected to pay attention and quit misbehaving. Then there were the names of the students I adored. So many names. So many responses.

Maybe you didn’t know it, but teachers must sometimes get creative with their own children’s names because so many names create a negative vibe when they say them. I was one of those teachers. My kids’ names aren’t likely to be found on pencils and such at the gift shop, but I love them regardless.

Lots of thought went into their names. We imagined what they’d sound like as they played with their friends. I wrote them  as if I were in preschool learning how to write. We said them out loud–their entire name–to be sure they weren’t tongue twisters and to avoid any weird rhymes.

We pinned them on elderly faces to see if they’d fit and visualized them walking across the graduation stage and hearing their name yelled from the crowd. I pictured it on the door plaque of a lawyer’s office and emblazoned on the side of a dump truck. Desiring for it to fit them throughout life and any profession, my husband and I settled on Landon Joseph, Brennon Luke, and Karenna Ann.

He liked simpler names and lobbied for Jessie each time, but I reminded him that he called every little boy he knew “Bud” and each little girl was affectionately called, “Sis”. He agreed and gave me the go-ahead with each.

Yes, names mean something. Identities mean even more.

We’ve talked to our kids about protecting their name. About respecting their family’s name and heritage. About honoring the identity of the name they bear outside their own–Jesus Christ. We’ve shared what God says about enjoying the favor of people and the verse from Proverbs 22:1 that says,

A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold. 

We want that as parents, don’t we? Not only do we know the value of a good name, we want our children to maintain it. We don’t want it just for their benefit, we want it for ours as well…even if we don’t want to admit it.

We know what it’s like to hear a name and instantly think of that person’s behavior. Have you ever been with your friends and a name is mentioned and a story is instantly recalled? We all hope that our own name recalls a positive story, don’t we? I do. But sometimes a name recalls a lackluster story. One filled with pain and regret. A name filled with anger and hatred. A story of sadness and shortcoming. Of evil or error.

My name can be associated with such misdeeds, whether anyone ever knew them or not. It could be associated with guilt and shame. Words can be attached to my name. Even if others didn’t hurl them at me, I’ve attached them to myself.

Oh, I’ve hurled them at myself. I spent years doing that, but those words weren’t from God. They were from the pit of Hell. My friend, Jamie Taylor, shared a post on social media that speaks to this:

 

That post went straight to my heart. I instantly praised God out loud for calling me by my name. He doesn’t label me by my sin as the Enemy does. He doesn’t tag me with my transgression like people do. He calls me by my name!

Let that sink in, friends. If God, the maker of the universe and the keeper of the stars can look on me with forgiveness and love, I can too. If Jesus, the only One to walk this earth in perfection, the One who took the beatings for my bad stuff and was killed for my crime, can call sinners by name, then why do people call them by their sin?

If God gives second chances, then why can’t we?

If Jesus forgives and looks on them with love, why do we think we can affix our scarlet letters of sin on them?

No, most of us would never label people directly or to their face, but do we label them when their name comes up in conversation? Do we throw out their misdeeds like badges that they’ll never live down?

If we do, then we’re labeling ourselves as unforgiving and lacking in grace. When we label people, we’re stealing the good reputation that they have built as they turned from their past mistakes. We become thieves. Is that the label WE want?

Matthew West wrote a song about our new name. It’s no longer Regret. It’s no longer Defeat. It’s no longer Shame. It’s Child of the One True King. Sons and daughters of the King. A prince. A princess.

God says it Himself:

Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God–children not born of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God. (John 1:12)

If your name tag says anything besides your sweet, parent-given name, let God re-write it with the pen of his grace and forgiveness. If you’ve turned from that, you’re free!

If we ever write anything on someone else’s tag besides their given name, let’s love them enough to re-write it. If we can’t love them enough, then let’s love Him enough. The One who loved us enough to only call us by our name. Let’s love Him enough to show His love and only speak kindness and grace.

Who in your life needs you to give them a new name? Do it. You’d want them to do the same for you.