What's in a Name? by Joylene M Bailey

 

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

This is Juliet's line while thinking about Romeo and his family's rivalry with her own. She is saying that a name is just a convention with no meaning behind it.

Really?

In light of the fact that Juliet is a mere inexperienced child when she utters this phrase, I will let it go. However, allow me to contradict Mr. Shakespeare.

Names are important. Think of all the Old Testament names with strong meanings. Here are a few:

Eve = To breathe; to live

Abraham = Father of many

Isaac = One who laughs or rejoices

Judah = Praise

Samuel = God has heard

David = Beloved

Benjamin's name was changed from Ben-Oni (Son of my Sorrow) to Benjamin (Son of my Days) ... that's how much importance a name carried.

All over the world, parents give their children names that are meaningful to them. Here are only a sampling:

African:

Onika = who is greater than God?

Azizi = precious one

Badru = born on a full moon

Japanese:

Manzo = third born son

Kikuko = chrysanthemum

Arine = one who is full of joy

Canadian Indigenous:

Gizhaate = it is sunny

Waaseyaa = first light from the rising sun

Nishiime = younger sister

Consider:

Martin Chuzzlewit, Ebenezer Scrooge, Oliver Twist

Hercule Poirot, Atticus Finch, Holly Golightly

Marilla Cuthbert, Huckleberry Finn, Forrest Gump

Long John Silver, Willy Wonka, Captain Jack Sparrow

Ichabod Crane, the Lady of Shalott, Pippi Longstocking

Eeyore

Don't these names conjure up stories and pictures for you?

I might be overstating the obvious, but all this to say ... names are important.

 

Memorable names.

Purposeful names.

Whether or not your readers know the significance, you do, and wouldn't you say that it enhances the way you write about them?

I've always been taken with names: their meanings, their histories, even their rhythms. In my current work in progress, a secondary character has the last name Beaufort. It means beautiful fortress, which is what this character is for my protagonist--a place of safety. My readers may not light upon this, but I know, and I believe it makes the character stronger. It even makes the writing of the character stronger. For me, the name of my character helps to give it depth. It plays into the purpose of the story and the message I'm trying to get across.

In the end, I think I must take back my contradiction of William Shakespeare, at least in part. For one thing, the meaning of Capulet (Juliet's family) is headstrong. I imagine the bard knew what he was doing when he gave names to his characters. Touché, sir!

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Feature photo by Markus Winkler from Pixabay

Joy's parents named her on purpose and prayed from the time she was tiny that joy would be evident in her. Find more of her joy-infused writing at Scraps of Joy.

Livin' Up To My Name by Brenda Leyland

"A name is the blueprint of the thing we call character.

You ask, What's in a name?

I answer, Just about everything you do."

MORRIS MANDEL

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"Brenda, quick like a bunny, run and get me some dill from the garden."

"Brenda, come set the table for supper."

"Brenda, you didn't practice your piano at all this week, did you?"

"Brenda, come to the blackboard and work out this math problem for us."

"Bren-da, hurry up, we're getting in the car!"

 

When I was a girl, I couldn't decide if I really liked my name or not. Looking back, I realize it wasn't the name itself, but rather because I most often heard it spoken when I was either in trouble or my mom (or teacher) required something of me—which often meant tearing myself away from the latest book I happened to be immersed in. If I heard "Brenda Colleen, come here right now!" well, there was no escaping it, I knew I was in deep trouble. So, you can appreciate why I did not pick up good vibes from hearing my name spoken. Oh yes, I got accolades for getting good grades in school, and I felt the love when my family sang happy birthday 'D-e-a-r Bren-da'. It's just that those other times stuck more vividly.

Still, that didn't keep me from pondering how my parents came to choose the name for their first-born daughter. After all, our name identifies us from others, and we identify with our name, and please don't misspell it. I knew some kids who were named for a grandparent or special aunty. When I thought to ask my mom years later, she told me about a couple they knew who called their daughter Brenda; Mom and Dad really liked the name. Popular at the time, it was in the Top 20 for baby names during the 1950s, the decade of my birth.

As a youngster, I learned in Sunday School that God called his children by name and these names found in the Bible often had special significance—names like Abraham, Sarah, David, Mary, Jesus. I was curious—did my name have any such significance, I'd never seen it in the Bible. I searched out the old Baby Names book on the family bookshelf and found that the accepted origin for the female name Brenda came from the Old Nordic Brandr, a male name meaning 'torch' and 'sword'. For a girl hoping for something more romantic, I was less than impressed. Colleen in Irish means 'lass'. I liked that. As an avid reader, I was tickled to learn years later that Brenda was ensconced in English literature, ensuring its place among female names on the British Isles, when Sir Walter Scott gave it to his heroine in his 1821 novel The Pirate.

In my youth it was especially popular for gift and book stores to sell personalized name mugs, bookmarks, and beverage coasters. I'd often stop to scan the racks of cups and smile when I spotted my name, even if I wasn't buying. One day I found a coaster with 'Brenda' inscribed on a cheery blue background with the epigraph: One who lives with enthusiasm; one who encourages others. That grabbed my heart - I loved the possibility of what I could do with that. The coaster came home with me and was used until it grew old and coffee stained. By then I no longer needed its daily reminder - it was part of me. I was glad to discover Bible verses that confirmed the message on the coaster:

"Whatever your hand finds to do,

do it with all your might."

from Ecclesiastes 9:10

"...that I should know how to speak a word

in season to him who is weary."

from Isaiah 50:4

"A word fitly spoken is like apples

of gold in a setting of silver."

from Proverbs 25:11

They became my watch words as I set about learning how to live my young life with enthusiasm, pouring myself into whatever I put my hand to. I watched for opportunities where I could share encouragement with my family and friends, neighbours and coworkers. At first, it was often through letters and cards that I reached out; then it was emails, and more recently, blog posts and social media pages. All with the desire to share a hopeful 'word in season'.

I'm grateful for my name. I like the sound of it when someone speaks it. I'm happy to report I don't get scolded much anymore, although the Lord will pull me up short on occasion, but he's kind about it so I never mind. I know my dear parents chose my name with careful thought and a lot of love, and so I cherish their gift to me. It's a marvel to think that God used an ordinary beverage coaster with its simple motto to set me on a lifelong journey where I could grow into my name. 

A long-time InScribe member, Brenda Colleen writes from her home in Alberta, Canada. She is inspired by the beauty in the world around her and writes about it on her blog It's A Beautiful Life and Facebook page.

Growing Into It by Marcia Lee Laycock

Photo by Marcia Lee Laycock

                                                        

They called him “Corner” because whenever anyone went near him he’d run into a corner and quiver. When I saw the grey husky-shepherd cross for the first time he was outside, running through the bush, low to the ground like a wolf on the prowl. My friend told me he was going to have to shoot him if someone didn’t come along and take him away. So I decided to try. It took me a week to get close enough to touch him and another few days before I could get a collar and leash on him.

Once at home I began a rehabilitation program – good food, lots of soft words and kind pets. And a name change. Corner became Klondike. He took to his name well and was eager to please me as I began to train him. My neighbour said he looked like a cartoon character, with ears that were too big for his face and paws that told us he was going to be a big dog. As time went on, Klondike grew into his ears and his paws and his name. He became my constant companion, ever obedient and extremely protective. Klondike became my guardian angel and I know he saved me on more than one occasion.

As I saved Corner, giving him a new name and a new life, Jesus did the same for me. Shortly after I yielded my will and my life to Him, I opened my new Bible and read this verse: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are mine” (Isaiah 43:1, NKJV).

That was a significant moment for me because for much of my life people had called me by a name that was not mine. My mother, whose heritage was British, named me Marcia, pronounced Mar-see-uh with the accent on the first syllable. At home I was Marci. But when I went to school my teachers began calling me Marsha. I was too shy to correct them and although I disliked it, went along with that name and that identity until I was out of high school. At university I insisted that everyone call me by the name my mother had given me.

To this day people often mispronounce my name, either using Marsha or putting the emphasis on the last syllable. But now it doesn’t bother me so much, because I know the One who created me knows my name. That’s all that matters.

It matters, too, that I live up to the name I’ve been given. I don’t want to be like Abigail’s husband, Nabal, whom she said lived up to his name, which meant stupid. (Read the story in 1 Samuel 25). I’d rather be like Simon whose name was changed to Peter (the rock) and who grew into that name as God strengthened and guided him into his new identity as a leader of His church. Or Abram, who became Abraham and Sarai who became Sarah. They grew into their names too, as they fulfilled the destiny God had planned for them.

So what’s in a name? Identity is wrapped up in it. As we grow into the identity we were meant to have, we grow into the name we have been given – Children of God.

“… that you become blameless and harmless, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world ...” (Philippians 2:15).

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