Multitudes on Mondays: Why You Might Want to Change Your Name
Before our third-born arrived, my preschoolers constantly wanted to play the name game. “What shall we name the baby?” Luke, five years-old at the time, would ask over breakfast, when I tucked him into bed, and a dozen times in between.
When the baby finally arrived and necessitated a name, we had compiled quite an impressive list of possibilities.
Some were quite plausible– like Mary, Maggie, or Matthew.
Others quite laughable–like Barney, if the baby looked good in purple; or Clifford, if the baby had red hair.
Some were quite plausible– like Mary, Maggie, or Matthew.
Others quite laughable–like Barney, if the baby looked good in purple; or Clifford, if the baby had red hair.
When the kids were bantering over the baby’s name, I seized the opportunity to explain the significance of their own names.
We talked about the meaning behind their names and explored the stories in the Bible where their namesakes could be found.
We talked about the meaning behind their names and explored the stories in the Bible where their namesakes could be found.
I didn’t consider the impact of that simple exercise until one afternoon when I dropped in on a Muslim acquaintance on my way home from my weekly Bible study at church.
Though this Indian woman and I had little in common outside of our roles as mothers, we still managed to share a cup of hot tea and an hour of warm conversation now and then.
Our preschoolers attended a small learning center together, and that alone provided an adequate springboard for comfortable small chat.
That afternoon in particular, we were comparing pregnancy stories. Eventually, I asked my hostess how she had chosen her daughter’s beautiful name.
That afternoon in particular, we were comparing pregnancy stories. Eventually, I asked my hostess how she had chosen her daughter’s beautiful name.
At that point, Lizzy, who had been playing Barbies on the floor at our feet, jumped up and tugged at the woman’s knee.
“Do you know what my name means?” my three-year-old asked.
“Do you know what my name means?” my three-year-old asked.
With a small smile, our hostess shook her head no.
My daughter put down her Barbie doll and climbed unabashedly on the young mama’s knee. She cocked her curly blonde head and enunciated each syllable as if she were declaring the winning lottery numbers. “My name means ‘CON-SUH-CRAY-DUD to GAWD.’”
In hushed tones, as if not to embarrass our tea mate, Lizzy asked, “Do you know what consecrated means?”
Shocked by my little one’s verbiage, the lovely woman responded in broken English,
“I done know dat word.”
“Oh!” Lizzy cried with a clap of her hands, thrilled for a chance to share more. “It’s just a big fancy way of saying that when I was borned, my mom and dad gave me to Jesus!”
Then Lizzy nuzzled close to our hostess’s silky black braids and whispered, “Don’t you wish you were an Elizabeth, too?”
I held my breath, unsure of whether to lift my daughter off of that poor woman’s lap or just let the moment proceed.
I thought of the snippets of conversation we’d shared in the past, our talks about her family back in India and her Hindu upbringing.
And my gentle explanations of why I believed in a Savior I couldn’t see and how somehow He grows joy even in the middle of all the toddler tantrums and the loneliness, the endless stacks of dishes and the monotony of motherhood.
Lizzy wiggled on our tea-mate’s knees and waited for a reply.
Finally the lovely woman’s eyes veered toward my diaper bag and landed on the Bible still stashed in the front pocket after my morning at church.
A slow smile spread across her face, and our hostess gazed long into my little girl’s baby blues. “Yes, Elizabeth,” she whispered, “I do wish for your name.”Lizzy threw her slender arms around her new friend’s neck. And as I quietly sipped my tea, I could think of no name more fitting for my first-born girl than Elizabeth Grace.
It’s been years since that unscripted moment unfolded in a tiny apartment building in Lincoln, Nebraska, but I’ve revisited many times the significance of my daughter’s unsolicited commentary on that cool autumn day.
If the simple meaning of my daughter’s name could minister unaware to a young woman in need of a Savior, surely the holy name of Jesus can minister to the unspoken needs of our own frantic hearts.
If the simple meaning of my daughter’s name could minister unaware to a young woman in need of a Savior, surely the holy name of Jesus can minister to the unspoken needs of our own frantic hearts.
In The Power of a Praying Woman, author Stormie O’Martian reminds us that
“Each of God’s names in the Bible represents a way He wants us to trust Him.”
She asks,
“Each of God’s names in the Bible represents a way He wants us to trust Him.”
She asks,
“Do you trust Him to be your Strength (Psalm 18:1)?
Is He your Peace (Ephesians 2:14)?
Is He the Lifter of Your Head when you are down (Psalm 3:3)?
Is He your Refiner (Malachi 3:2-3)?
Your Wisdom? (1 Corinthians 1:24)?
Your Counselor? (Psalm 16:7)?
Your Resting Place? (Jeremiah 50:6)….”
In any moment, on any day, we can cry out the name of Jesus and trust Him to meet us at the point of our deepest need.
Because Jesus has a name to meet our every need.
In fact, He even has a name for those needs we can’t yet put into words.
Because Jesus has a name to meet our every need.
In fact, He even has a name for those needs we can’t yet put into words.
I learned that from a three-year-old girl and a beautiful Indian woman who was hankering for a new name.
I’m not sure what happened to that lovely young mama. Our kids graduated from preschool and we both went our separate ways.
She returned to India to care for a dying father. And I moved to the cornfields of Iowa with my favorite doctor and our growing gaggle of kids.
But now and then when I see a set of silky black braids or I smell the aroma of rich black tea, I picture her dark eyes and her quiet smile.
And I pray that wherever she is, my tea-mate has fallen into the arms of the One who lives up to His name. And that, by His grace, she is discovering the immeasurable joy of being ‘CON-SUH-CRAY-DUD to GAWD’.
And I pray that wherever she is, my tea-mate has fallen into the arms of the One who lives up to His name. And that, by His grace, she is discovering the immeasurable joy of being ‘CON-SUH-CRAY-DUD to GAWD’.
1774. Josh: “Dad was an AWESOME dad today! He was HOME all day!”
1775. Playing baseball, frisbee golf, and basketball all in one afternoon. In January, in Iowa!
1776. A walk around the lake with Hannah. In January, in Iowa!
1777. Starting the day at the Windmill Cafe with a moms-and-daughters breakfast date.
1778. Enjoying the We Walk Tour with Liz in our own town.
1779. Telling the “spa story” to Maggie’s Sunday school class with all my “big kids” helping to act it out 🙂
1780. Huge, fluffy, white snowflakes falling from the sky. No two alike.
1781. A quiet Sunday afternoon– kids curled up under blankets with their favorite books.1782. Maggie, “The snow is just Jesus saying HELLO to us, Mom!”
1783. Josh adding to my bedtime prayer, “And Jesus, YOU are my very best friend. And so is God. Can you tell Him that for me?”
Happily linking with Ann for multitude mondays, laura for playdates with God, Jen for soli deo gloria, and a few new places for the new year-–The Better Mom, The Mom Initiative, Titus 2sdays,
Happily linking with Ann for multitude mondays, laura for playdates with God, Jen for soli deo gloria, and a few new places for the new year-–The Better Mom, The Mom Initiative, Titus 2sdays,
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That’s the thinking of a creative mind
I was told by Angelica that Derek also uses a BlackBerry but I have not yet seen a picture of it. I will be posting new pics as soon as I see them..Derek, you mind sending me one ?
Apenrpatly this is what the esteemed Willis was talkin’ ’bout.
My child’s name, Elissa, is a variation of Elizabeth and I always told her that her name meant “consecrated to God.” I wonder if God will use her name someday, too …
I do believe names are very important and that God has a purpose for each one.
Loved the story about Lizzy!
What a blessing your little Lizzy is! We never know what our kids are going to say, but it definitely helps when they’ve heard good things worth repeating. And she obviously had. Love this story and testimony to the power of names.
This was just flat-out beautiful. I love to read your words, Alicia. You are a gifted storyteller. Three cheers for your little evangelists! Love it!
So precious, Alicia. Just.
This is a beautiful testimony of intentional parenting and discipleship, and so awesome how your daughter glorifies Him! I’m sure your friend remembers that day, and that the Lord is using it.
Thanks for taking time to stop by and encourage, girls. And, Kelli, your “name” piece at the Bible Dude was AMAZING. Love it!
Beautifully written, and what a great perspective on the power of Jesus’ name. Thank you for your encouraging story today!
Alicia, now THIS is absolutely gorgeous. Thank you for sharing this. It leaves me teary-eyed, and knowing our Lord never leaves one stone unturned in reaching each lamb. How I love how little children shine His heart! Your Elizabeth shining out her name… beautiful. I’m so glad you jumped over to mine so I could find yours today… 🙂
i had to jump over and see your perspective on names, since i just wrote on it yesterday!!
i love how you let the potentially awkward moment unfold. that can be so hard sometimes, but who knows? perhaps it was scripted to plant a seed. beautiful and so full of hope!
Love the article. So inspiring and so well written. Thank you!