What's in a name?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Romeo and Juliet, Juliet in Act II, Scene 2
Sometimes I look at my kids and wonder what they would be like if we had named them the other names we considered. Maybe we should have named E this? Maybe A would have made a better ___? Maybe K should have been spelled with a C? Would they still be the same little people I hold in my arms now? The answer to that is obvious, of course, but naming a child has always struck me as a huge responsibility. Did I choose right?
Though settling on their names was often a point of contention between Mark and me and though the process often put me into fits of sleepless anxiety, I loved naming each of our three children. In all cases but one, we surprised ourselves by choosing names that were not on either of our lists of top picks. I was pondering this fact in the quiet space that follows the frenzy of putting our babes to bed for the night. Why, I couldn't tell you. But I began to think about the meanings of our children's names as a collective whole, as a declaration of sorts. What did they mean all together, I wondered? And why, ultimately, did we settle on those three out of all the thousands of names we could have chosen?
Why, indeed? Mark and I have a decade long history of being terribly indecisive together. It's a wonder we agreed on anything at all. More often we were sure of things we didn't like. "No, not that!" I would cry emphatically. "That kid picked on me mercilessly in school." "Uh-uh," Mark would say. "That sounds like something out of Little House on the Prairie." "Exactly," I would reply, "And what is so wrong with Little House?" And on and on it went. Naming "discussions" often turned into naming arguments.
In the end, we picked names we liked the sound of first, then we looked up meanings. So it surprised me tonight that the collective meaning of our cherubs' names is really quite lovely. All together our children's first and middle names mean: hard working, pure, friend, grace, courage, faithful, and gift of God.
As I thought about these words tonight, I liked the picture they painted all together. I realized that our children are not necessarily named for family members or for holy women and men of the Bible, though some of the names are familial or biblical. Instead, their names represent qualities I hope they will all three grow to possess. Hard working she is. Pure she tries to be. To be a friend she is learning. Gracious and filled by grace, this is a lifelong challenge. Courageous he is already. Faithful I hope he will be. Gifts of God they all are.
This week I will spend time praying for my children using these words. Often, I tend to focus on prayer for their physical health and safety. I also pray for their spiritual growth, that they will invite Christ into their lives always, that they will love God always, that they will be guided by the Spirit always. This is good, but I also like the idea of praying for their characters--that they will be hard working and pure, that they will be strong and steady friends to those around them, that they will accept grace in their lives and extend it to others, that they will be courageous and faithful, that they will know they are gifts of God.
And I will speak the beautiful words their names mean out loud more often, so that they can hear those words and be invited into the possibilities of their own little lives.
This all follows on the heels of a much larger project I have in mind. I have been trying to think of ways to parent with more intention. There is a busyness and a weariness that attends caring for small children day in and day out. That will not shift. At least not for a long time. But perhaps my mindset can. Perhaps when I am tired, I can look at their little faces, and see how they are trying to become. And I can tell them: "You are hard working, you are pure, you are a friend, you have received grace, you can extend grace, you are courageous, you are faithful, and you are gifts.
It reminds me of Abilene, the main character in The Help, who gathers her neglected little charge in her arms each morning and at their final parting, whispering to her: "You is smart. You is kind. You is important." The words become armor for May Mobly's little girl spirit, so that she can grow and thrive, even under the roof of an unloving mother.
I hope that our house will be the safe, secure place my kids need to grow into their names. I can't be the perfect mom, but I can be an intentional one. We spent months naming our Littles, while the hours leading up to their arrival stretched endlessly before us. Now I realize the naming was the easy part. We have eighteen whole years to guide them into their own lives. How very short that time suddenly seems.
How did your children get their names?
By any other name would smell as sweet."
Romeo and Juliet, Juliet in Act II, Scene 2
Sometimes I look at my kids and wonder what they would be like if we had named them the other names we considered. Maybe we should have named E this? Maybe A would have made a better ___? Maybe K should have been spelled with a C? Would they still be the same little people I hold in my arms now? The answer to that is obvious, of course, but naming a child has always struck me as a huge responsibility. Did I choose right?
Though settling on their names was often a point of contention between Mark and me and though the process often put me into fits of sleepless anxiety, I loved naming each of our three children. In all cases but one, we surprised ourselves by choosing names that were not on either of our lists of top picks. I was pondering this fact in the quiet space that follows the frenzy of putting our babes to bed for the night. Why, I couldn't tell you. But I began to think about the meanings of our children's names as a collective whole, as a declaration of sorts. What did they mean all together, I wondered? And why, ultimately, did we settle on those three out of all the thousands of names we could have chosen?
Why, indeed? Mark and I have a decade long history of being terribly indecisive together. It's a wonder we agreed on anything at all. More often we were sure of things we didn't like. "No, not that!" I would cry emphatically. "That kid picked on me mercilessly in school." "Uh-uh," Mark would say. "That sounds like something out of Little House on the Prairie." "Exactly," I would reply, "And what is so wrong with Little House?" And on and on it went. Naming "discussions" often turned into naming arguments.
In the end, we picked names we liked the sound of first, then we looked up meanings. So it surprised me tonight that the collective meaning of our cherubs' names is really quite lovely. All together our children's first and middle names mean: hard working, pure, friend, grace, courage, faithful, and gift of God.
As I thought about these words tonight, I liked the picture they painted all together. I realized that our children are not necessarily named for family members or for holy women and men of the Bible, though some of the names are familial or biblical. Instead, their names represent qualities I hope they will all three grow to possess. Hard working she is. Pure she tries to be. To be a friend she is learning. Gracious and filled by grace, this is a lifelong challenge. Courageous he is already. Faithful I hope he will be. Gifts of God they all are.
This week I will spend time praying for my children using these words. Often, I tend to focus on prayer for their physical health and safety. I also pray for their spiritual growth, that they will invite Christ into their lives always, that they will love God always, that they will be guided by the Spirit always. This is good, but I also like the idea of praying for their characters--that they will be hard working and pure, that they will be strong and steady friends to those around them, that they will accept grace in their lives and extend it to others, that they will be courageous and faithful, that they will know they are gifts of God.
And I will speak the beautiful words their names mean out loud more often, so that they can hear those words and be invited into the possibilities of their own little lives.
This all follows on the heels of a much larger project I have in mind. I have been trying to think of ways to parent with more intention. There is a busyness and a weariness that attends caring for small children day in and day out. That will not shift. At least not for a long time. But perhaps my mindset can. Perhaps when I am tired, I can look at their little faces, and see how they are trying to become. And I can tell them: "You are hard working, you are pure, you are a friend, you have received grace, you can extend grace, you are courageous, you are faithful, and you are gifts.
It reminds me of Abilene, the main character in The Help, who gathers her neglected little charge in her arms each morning and at their final parting, whispering to her: "You is smart. You is kind. You is important." The words become armor for May Mobly's little girl spirit, so that she can grow and thrive, even under the roof of an unloving mother.
I hope that our house will be the safe, secure place my kids need to grow into their names. I can't be the perfect mom, but I can be an intentional one. We spent months naming our Littles, while the hours leading up to their arrival stretched endlessly before us. Now I realize the naming was the easy part. We have eighteen whole years to guide them into their own lives. How very short that time suddenly seems.
How did your children get their names?
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