Importance of Names by Lorilee Guenter

 

Isaiah 43:1b
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

Hello, my name is... Finishing that statement should be easy. After all, I have lived with my name for decades. I like the name my parents chose for me - the middle names of my aunts. And yet, I have been known to introduce myself two different ways, using either my given name, Lorilee, or a shortened form, Lori. One day Bruce asked me about this after he noticed I introduced myself each way within about ten minutes of each other.

Up until high school, I used my given name almost exclusively. I would often have to spell it for people but would rarely need to correct pronunciation. Close friends and family used nicknames, but to everyone else I was, I am, Lorilee. Just before high school we moved. With the move came the frustration of people mispronouncing my name. Even after I corrected them many times I seemed destined to have Lorilee become Lori Lee or Lori uh Lee. Ugh! One day after yet another attempt to correct the same people I decided it would be less aggravating to have everyone call me Lori. I still used Lorilee anytime I needed to write my name, so all my homework and documents held my given name.

I recently had the question posed to me: "Have you ever thought of returning to Lorilee as your name?" Our name is a piece of our identity. When my counsellor proposed the idea, she talked about how, since my choice came out of frustration, it may be an unconscious reminder. Hmm. I never even considered the idea until that conversation. Something I needed to think about. This question prompted conversation with those who knew me well. Now I mostly introduce myself as Lorilee. Many people who know me still go back and forth between the two versions.

As I considered how my name impacts my writing and my interaction with others, I remembered a time someone I never previously met telling me I pronounced my name wrong. I walked away from that encounter and complained to Bruce, "How can she tell me how to pronounce my name?" Shades of high school frustration returned. I had used this name for decades. I heard my parents and grandparents use the name chosen for me. Now a stranger tried to correct my pronunciation. After complaining out the frustration, I tucked the memory away.

Even tucked away these events impact my actions. Our neighbourhood has seen many unfamiliar immigrants move in bringing their customs and their names. I sense frustration rising in me when I hear others say things like: "I'll never learn how to say that name", or "Why can't they give their children a name we can pronounce?" Why indeed. That name might be chosen to honour a family member. It might have ties to important people or events in their own history. Why should others give up their choice for our convenience? I don't think they should. Their story can enrich our own. Our honest attempts to listen to them and to use their names properly can build into relationships. By working to learn their name we show they are important enough for us to put time and effort into respecting them.

Friends in spite of differences

I have stumbled over names that are foreign to me. I expect to encounter more names that cause me to stumble. I have made it my practice to ask if my pronunciation is correct when I encounter an unknown name. I ask them help me say it correctly. This gives me the opportunity to demonstrate they are worth the time for me to learn this.

Whichever name I use, Lori or Lorilee, God knows my name. He knows how to pronounce it. He has shown me the frustrations I had can and will be used by Him as they shape my actions.

Hello, my name is Lorilee, derived from the laurel tree, a symbol of honour and victory. I will also answer to Lori. I choose to honour those I meet by learning their name and using it well. Will you join me?

Is it Connie? Or Constance? Or Corny? By Connie Mae Inglis

Your hands made me and formed me. –Ps. 119:73a

“Connie? Is your name short for Constance?” 

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to answer that question. The answer is, “No, just Connie.” 

And there it is—just Connie. Nothing unique about my name, right?

In order to make sure that was true, I recently asked my mother again about where she and my dad got my name. She said they found it in a baby book of names that Dad had bought when they were hunting for a name for my older sister, Lovella. They saw the name “Connie” and liked it. Again, nothing unusual. 

BUT, there was more.

Both my parents grew up in strong Mennonite communities, my mother especially so. Communities where people had either Bible names or hand-me-down names from past relatives. Names like Michael or Maria, Gerhard or Justina, Reuben (my dad’s name) or Elizabeth (my mom’s name). 

Even when I was born, my grandma misunderstood and tweaked my name from Connie to Corny (short for Cornelius). She thought I was a boy, named after a relative. Throughout my childhood, we laughed about that as a family. I was an easy-going kid. I knew the gentle, but very Low-German, ways of my grandma. I just laughed along. Not Corny. Just Connie.

But not just Connie. 

You see, when my parents got married and started having children, they both knew they wanted to choose names for their children that were outside of the heritage norm. Names that weren’t like any they’d heard growing up. That didn’t mean they were turning their back on their Christian faith or their heritage. Far from it. I grew up in a strong Christian home and we faithfully attended the Mennonite Brethren Church, a country church outside the town of Borden. 

But my parents wanted something different for us. They had seven children and none of us have Mennonite-sounding or Bible names: Lovella, Connie, Tammy, Holly, Roxanne, Kimberly and Scott. 

Even my middle name is unusual in its spelling: Mae. 

Connie Mae. I like that. I like knowing that my name was thought about—that it was outside the norm. No offense to the all the people out there who have a Mennonite name because of their heritage, but I like knowing that there’s a unique story behind my name. 

I started this blog post with half of a verse. But there is more:

Your hands made me and formed me. Give me understanding so that I might learn your commands. Your loyal followers will be glad when they see me, for I find hope in your word. –Ps. 119:73,74

In God, I too am unique. Not just in my name. I have a unique calling to be ALL God wants me to be because nobody else can fill my shoes. Nobody else can offer the world hope in the same way that God leads me to. That is both a challenge and a joy. 

To God be the glory!

A Boy Named Sue by Bob Jones

Johnny Cash made it clear that “life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.” Names matter. They have meaning, purpose, and shape destinies. Naming can feel like a heavy parental responsibility. Or, choosing a name can be a joyous opportunity. Months before our firstborn entered the world, my wife and I started our search for names before we knew the gender.

 

A girl would be Natasha, for no other reason than Jocelyn liked the mystery of the name.

 

For a boy, we wanted a strong name, the kind that would suit a hero. We liked “Cory” because one meaning of the name was “brave hearted.”  We chose “Daniel” for a middle name, after the Old Testament hero known for his courage, faith, and tenacity

 

“Congratulations. You have a boy!” And so it was settled – Cory Daniel Jones.

 

Twenty-five months later, Jocelyn was about to deliver our second born into the world. This time we knew the gender so our search for the perfect name was simplified. John Mark, a disciple of Jesus, caught our attention. We wanted our boy to grow up to follow Jesus and because we were living in Quebec we chose the name, Jean Marc.

 

Their names took on an unexpected life of their own. Jean Marc worked well for the first six years of his life while we lived in Quebec. Moving to Alberta introduced him to how a name can get messed up. His 1^st grade teacher pronounced his name as “Jeanne.” His classmates told him he had a girl’s name. To them Jean (pronounced without a French accent) sounded like "Sue." We didn't want him to grow up to be a fighter so intervention was required before our first parent-teacher interview. That’s when his older brother started calling him “JM.” Ironically, both sons would become known by the initials of their name - Jean Marc as “JM” and Cory as “CJ.”

 

Jocelyn made up songs for the boys based on their names and serenaded the boys so often the words are on easy recall to this day.

 

Over time, they became respected names. The boys' athletic abilities and competitive natures earned them honors on a school-wide basis. They helped lead their teams to championships in basketball, volleyball, football, and track and field. Both boys were named “Athlete of the Year” four years running by their Junior High and had their names engraved on plaques and trophies at their High Schools.

Cory and Jean Marc are the best of friends, teammates, and heroes to each other's kids. They are living out the character of their combined names - brave, courageous, tenacious, disciples of Jesus.

 

What's in your name? What is the story behind how your name was chosen, especially if your name is Sue. 

 

I write to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose.

Please follow my writing at REVwords.com

I would love to hear from you.