I’ve never been overly fond of my name. Sorry Mom & Dad, but it’s true. There’s no particular reason I don’t like it. There’s no other name I’ve got my heart set on. The name I have just doesn’t particularly excite me.
I’ve been thinking about how people in Biblical times often changed their names after life changing experiences. I’m undergoing one of those experiences right now. I’m learning a lot about grace. I’m learning that everything I have and everything I am has been gifted to me. There’s no reason for any of the goodness in my life except for grace.
Compare that with the circumstances of many of the people I encounter every day. Lives destroyed by broken relationships, hopelessness, and all manner of life’s hurts. Hurts that exceed the resources some people have available for mending. People I walk by every day. People who try my patience. People who violate my trust. People who wound my pride. These are the people who change me. People who need acceptance, understanding, and compassion.
In Hebrew, my name means “Grace.” I think I need to live up to the name I have before I go trying to get a new one.