What's In A Name?

First things first. Merry Christmas, and Blessed New Year to you! It's been a while since I last posted, as the past few weeks have been as busy for me as yours have been for all of you, I'm sure. It was such a blessing getting to spend the time we did, in the ways we could, with family this season. This has definitely been a year to focus our gratitude on all we DO have. Getting to see the grandchildren over Christmas got me thinking about the name they call me, and how happy it makes me to hear it... hence this post.

During the course of a lifetime we experience many different names. We are identified first by the name our parents give us at birth, but there soon follow many other descriptions of who we are: son, daughter, grandchild, godchild, niece, nephew, cousin. We may lovingly inherit nicknames along the way too: Scooter, Doodlebug, Hot Shot, Cowboy (a few of the endearments in my family.) As we age we often add to those identifiers with the titles of aunt or uncle, husband or wife, son-in-law or daughter-in-law. It seems the ways in which we are described just keep growing right along with us and with our added relationships.

Most of our names are given to us by others, assigned by virtue of parents at our birth or by the inherent nature of the relationships we experience. However, there is one name that we just might get to pick for ourselves, if and when we are so blessed to be able... that is our grandparent name! Oh, I know, I know... you're supposed to let your first grandchild decide what he or she wants to call you. Yes, I've heard that before, but I didn't want to wait until they could talk for themselves. I wanted that badge of honor right away, as soon as I heard I was expecting!!! And you read that right too... I was expecting, right along with my daughter and son-in-law... what JOY!!

There's quite a lot in a name, you know?! A name evokes emotions, memories, fond or otherwise. It isn't the name really that does it, it's the character and temperament of the person behind the name that's responsible for that, but I would venture to say that we'd all like to be thought of with as much warmth and love as possible whenever our name is recalled.

My husband had no problem coming up with his grandparent name. He would be called "Big Daddy" just as he had referred to himself with our own children. That was great for him, but I had a plethora of names from which to choose, and I wanted to take my time to decide on one that would be juuuust right. I had both a "Nana" and a "Granny" growing up, but neither of my grandmothers' names seemed right for me, because I had my own memories tied up in them. My mother was known as "Grandma" to my kids, and I wanted to leave her with that, since she adored both her name and her function. I considered going the "initials" route with either something like DeeDee (DD) or GeeGee (GG), but those didn't seem right either, and "Grandmother" was just a bit too formal for my personality.

It seemed there was only one logical solution, one very BEST name for me. I would be known as "Big Mama" to my grandbabies... and it was PERFECT! Now don't get me wrong, I don't ever hope to physically resemble that name, but Big Mama it is... and it pairs so well with Big Daddy. I figured that among all the "Grandmas" and "Grannys" and "Maw Maws" and the rest, no one would really be clamoring for the title of "Big Mama." It's kind of a southern thing, and by no means is there any disrespect intended.

Before my dad settled in San Antonio, he grew up in little country towns here and there after being born in Lockhart, Texas. He always called his mother, "Mama." His grandmother, the matriarch of the family, and the woman who held everything and everyone together after her husband died of consumption, leaving her with three little girls to raise alone, was known as the first "Big Mama." She was a petite woman with a rather stern looking outward appearance and an iron will, but she also had a big heart. I always enjoyed hearing stories about my dad's adventures at Big Mama's house. My dad's grandmother was a simple woman who lived a simple life in a simple town. The grandeur of her name as the BIG Mama came less from the things she had, and more from the things she did. She was a voice of reason, a calm in the storm. She was steady as she goes, and she was a comfort and guiding force to both her children and her grandchildren, at least, that's the impression I got.

I wish I had known her. I wish I had asked my dad more about her. For me, it will have to suffice simply to take her name.

I mentioned before that there is a great deal wrapped up in a name. In fact, I happen to own a book by the same title: What's In A Name? Tom and I pored over the pages of this book when each of our children were born. We studied the literal meanings of each name and considered the suggested character qualities, but I think the thing I focused most on was the suggested lifetime Scripture verses. I'd like to share one in particular with you, if you will indulge me. It's the name we chose for our second child, our little girl born early.

My second pregnancy had not gone as planned. I was very tiny, even at six months. My doctor became alarmed and had me go through a couple of different tests. It was determined that our little girl was just not growing properly and in order for her to have a fighting chance at life, she would need to finish her development outside the womb. At thirty-four weeks she was taken via C-section. She weighed in at a whopping 2 lbs. 5 oz., and after being baptized right there in the delivery room, she was whisked away to another hospital with a tremendous neo-natal intensive care unit. She would stay there for fifty-nine days before we could bring her home.

After being told that we were to deliver our baby that same evening by means of surgery, Tom and I were sent home to grab a few essentials and to make arrangements for our son, Mark, who was twenty months old at the time. We were frantic. We hadn't even picked a name for our daughter yet. We prayed. Oh, my goodness, how we prayed for her to be all right, for the doctors, for the delivery... for calm... and for the right name. I picked up that little book and turned to page 185. There right at the top was a name we had casually thrown into the mix as a possible without ever consulting the meaning: "Rachel." I couldn't help but get emotional at what I read. Her name meant "Little Lamb" and her suggested Scripture verse was Isaiah 40:11, "He will feed His flock like a shepherd. He will gather the lambs in His arms, carrying them in His bosom and gently leading those that are with young." She would be His littlest lamb and He would, indeed, have to carry us both through the ordeal, but carry us He would... and He did. It was a perfect name, the perfect meaning, and it brought much comfort to a worrisome situation.

Names are important. They identify us. They characterize us. They inspire us. They stir memories in the hearts of those left behind long after their recipients have graduated to bigger and better things. They make a mark and provide a definition of who we are, what we've believed, how we have lived, and who we have loved. We move through life morhping, growing, adding to that definition. I have now arrived at this place in life where I am a grandmother... a BIG Mama. It is a title and a job that thrills me to the core. It is also a responsibility that I don't take lightly. I have the privilege of praying for these precious grandchildren, of spending time with them. I no longer have the job of disciplining, that was my job as a parent and has now been passed on to my own children to do for theirs. My job can be more like discipling them. I can love on them, hug them to bits, laugh with them, talk to them about Jesus. I can get down on the floor to play with them, make a fort behind the couch, dig in the dirt, play make-believe, and search for treasure.

I can simply be their "Big Mama," the one who loves them unconditionally, who will always think they're brilliant, who will encourage them and pray for them, who will read to them and walk the plank with them. And when my time comes to leave this world and all I love here behind, I hope a smile will come to their faces and joy to their hearts whenever they recall my name.