When You Wish Your Name Were Bluebell (Or How to Grow Into the Girl of Your Dreams!)
We’re standing in line at the Dollar Tree, Maggie wiggling impatient in her favorite purple tutu, when the elderly woman behind us bends low to look my jittery one in the eye.
“You’re as beautiful as your dancing dress,” the sweet grandma says.
Maggie smiles a thank-you, and the woman continues to chat with my youngest as I dig through my purse for fifty-six cents.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asks.
Maggie stops spinning and tilts her chin upward so she can return the gray-haired-conversationalist’s steady gaze.
Then my youngest rolls her big blue eyes in a dramatic fashion matched only by surly teens and drunken sailors, and she replies in a voice dripping with annoyance,“Well, my mother named me Maggie, but I wish she’d named me Bluebell.”
“Oh,” the shocked woman replies, her freckled brow furrowing as her voice trails off to a whisper.
Maggie crosses her arms in an un-lady-like harrumph and the dumbstruck grandma suddenly acts extremely interested in the fruity-flavored lip balm lined up in tidy rows along the check-out counter.
I shrug my shoulders and flash the poor woman a feeble smile; then I will the cashier to hurry as she rings up my bag of cheap wares.
I grab my mis-named girl’s hand and hustle her out the door.
“Why don’t you like the name Maggie?” I ask as we veer out of the parking lot.
“I’d just rather be named Bluebell,” Maggie responds, her lips pursed in a pink pout. “Or Daffodil or Lily….” she adds.
“So, you’d like to be a flower?”
“I don’t want to be a flower,” Maggie laughs. “I just want to be beautiful like a flower.”
I shift my eyes to the road ahead and then study my littlest girl in the rearview mirror.
The light turns yellow, and I slow to a stop, but for just a moment I’m not glancing at the ballerina in the backseat.
I’m gazing back in time…
For just a moment, I’m a fourteen-year-old girl standing in front of the filmy bathroom mirror; a girl who dreams of being called by a new name.
A girl who wants to be called beautiful instead of bony.
Lovely instead of loud.
Winsome instead of weird.
But what that gangly girl doesn’t know yet is that there is only one name that will make her beautiful.
Only one name that will call out the grace buried beneath all that gawkiness.
And it isn’t a word plastered on the front of her Teen Magazine.
And it isn’t a name that she’ll hear whispered by those wise-cracking boys on the school bus.
And it isn’t a label stuck on a cosmetic product or a fitness plan or a brand of jeans.
Ironically, the name that will bring her to life like a flower finally being placed in the light is the name of the One who was said to have no beauty at all.(Isaiah 53:2)
She doesn’t know it yet, but one day she’ll learn that the best way to unearth true beauty is to bury herself in Jesus.
To grow into the girl of her dreams, she’ll have to place her dreams in her Savior’s nail-scarred hands.
To live a beautiful life, she’ll first need to die…
Bluebell is singing in the backseat now, her voice rising above the mini-van’s hum and squeak.
“Jesus loves me this I know…”
Her eyes sparkle and her pout has somersaulted into a smile.
And her mom, who named her Magdalene Hope, prays that the little girl in the purple tutu will one day call on her Savior’s name and discover that a woman’s beauty always shines brightest in the light of the Son.
Joining Ann for Multitude Mondays. Thankful for these summer gifts…
2144. A visit from our red-headed niece.
2145. Girlfriends gathered in the prayer tower at midnight- begging God to lead us; asking for MORE of Him.
2146. A husband who plays with the kids.
2147. An unexpected date night- an early celebration of our TWENTIETH anniversary
2148. Peace holding steady beneath the churning of change
2149. The Spirit who always leads in truth and grace.
2150. A picnic at the “horse park” with three of my favorite girls.
Laura for playdates with God, Jen for soli deo gloria, The Better Mom, The Mom Initiative, and with Sarah for Mom Notes, and Jen at Rich Faith Rising.
I was a very skinny child until my parents took me on vacation near salt water. My mom used to tell me I was such a cute baby, what happened to me? God whispered how much He loved me and cherished me and I changed the way I saw myself. Now I look at myself through His eyes and know that I am beautiful
God is faithful, He will honor your training and prayer for your girl to bury herself in Jesus. (My husband’s grandmother’s name was Magdelene and it’s a lovely name)
Many blessings,
Barbara
Awesome post. Love the story of the little one that is already more beautiful than she knows… especially when she sings “Jesus Loves Me.”
How I love a great ending… even more so when it’s Truth and wisdom.
Funny how we can’t see that beauty quite so clearly ourselves. And, yes, there’s nothing more beautiful than hearing that simple Sunday School song spill from the heart of a child. Thanks for dropping by, Floyd.
I am so glad that you stopped by my blog so I could find you! What an inspirational blog you have! I have much to learn from you! And your kiddos are darling! Looking forward to getting to know you better! Blessings! Susan
Oh, this sounds familiar. I had a similar conversation with a certain red-haired, freckle-faced little boy when he was a wee one too. Well, he didn’t want to be named Bluebell, but he wanted a different name. I read him that scripture about the white stone in Revelation and told him that God has a special name for him that no one else knows. Doesn’t that give you goosebumps?
You are such a good mommy, Alicia.
I do LOVE that verse about our new names. What a great truth to share with your son!
This is beautiful and so true. Luckily she has you to guide her and show her that there is only one name she needs. That aside, I LOVE that she would like to be called Bluebell! I can tell she has quite the personality! 🙂
Quite the personality, indeed. There’s never a dull (or quiet) moment with our fifth-born!
Oh, that I needed this this morning as I recall such a moment for me (and funny, and not so funny!, this scenario continues even to this day as I near 66 years of age! I forget that the beauty that I can only be is through my Lord. Oh, why do I forget? I am who He created me to be and this lesson you are desiring to teach your Maggie (aka Bluebell) is for me. Thank you so much. Thanks you to your Maggie, also. Had it not been for her words, this lesson may not have found its way to my eyes and heart.
Caring through Christ, ~ linda
A beautiful post! You have so hit it on the head with this one. We start so young don’t we? Maggie is beautiful! May she grow in the knowledge of our Lord & cling to Him – always! Thank you so much for sharing this. I was your neighbor at Playdates With God. And may I say, I am so glad that I was!
Blessings,
Joanne
I’m glad we were neighbors this week, too!
Oh what a beautiful story and so well expressed! Lovely and true. Jesus…the name above all others, even bluebell! Visiting from Better Mom.
Glad you stopped by, Elise. I loved the God-story on your blog today. God can take the pieces and rebuild anything if we let Him–your tale proves that!