Thursday, October 27, 2005
And my name is....
The following story might not be totally correct, but it's what I recall. And since mom doesn't have a blog site, it will hereto be known as gospel truth, because whatever is in print is only truth, right?
I come from a family of four children. We all bear different names, chosen for different reasons. The oldest two children are named after my parents and grandparents. Middle sister was named after a friend and my mom. Then I came along. After 4 kids I'm sure they had almost run out of traditions. So, my name was picked out of a baby book. Not named after anyone in particular. And to be honest, I consider myself the luckiest one.
People name their children for many reasons. Some for creativity. Some for tradition. Some for posterity. Those people have numbers in their name. Names bring hope and promise. Or shame.
When I was a teenager I wanted to change my name. All through school my co-students had a hard time spelling it correctly. Every Valentine's Day card was spelled either "Anete" or "Anet" or "Annete". I wasn't sure what I would pick or how to do it, but I gave alternate names serious thought. Why couldn't I shape my own universe that way?
Let me switch to a story from "Blue Like Jazz".
Donal Miller had trouble loving himself. He writes of a wonderful relationship he had with a girlfriend who loved him intensely. He said "I could not really thrive in the relationship because I could never believe her deeply when she expressed affection....There was nothing this girl could do to get through to me." He realized that in past relationships the inability to love himself made him more and more needy and clingy. He would paint imaginary scenarios in his mind about how they were perhaps wanting to leave the relationship or wonder why they didn't want to commit to marriage soon enough. He felt a pull in him because this woman said she loved him yet he second-guessed himself and her. He decided to talk to someone about it.
He told the counselor that he loved the woman so much that he had trouble eating and sleeping and thinking about anything else. He found relationships hard. He didn't want to run from this relationship, but he felt like "the meaning of life is riding on whether or not she likes me...whether or not she loves me."
The counselor said something that impacted him.
"...for some reason you are letting this girl name you.""You are letting her decide your value. Your love has to come from God, And God wants you to receive His love and to love yourself too."
I come from a family of four children. We all bear different names, chosen for different reasons. The oldest two children are named after my parents and grandparents. Middle sister was named after a friend and my mom. Then I came along. After 4 kids I'm sure they had almost run out of traditions. So, my name was picked out of a baby book. Not named after anyone in particular. And to be honest, I consider myself the luckiest one.
People name their children for many reasons. Some for creativity. Some for tradition. Some for posterity. Those people have numbers in their name. Names bring hope and promise. Or shame.
When I was a teenager I wanted to change my name. All through school my co-students had a hard time spelling it correctly. Every Valentine's Day card was spelled either "Anete" or "Anet" or "Annete". I wasn't sure what I would pick or how to do it, but I gave alternate names serious thought. Why couldn't I shape my own universe that way?
Let me switch to a story from "Blue Like Jazz".
Donal Miller had trouble loving himself. He writes of a wonderful relationship he had with a girlfriend who loved him intensely. He said "I could not really thrive in the relationship because I could never believe her deeply when she expressed affection....There was nothing this girl could do to get through to me." He realized that in past relationships the inability to love himself made him more and more needy and clingy. He would paint imaginary scenarios in his mind about how they were perhaps wanting to leave the relationship or wonder why they didn't want to commit to marriage soon enough. He felt a pull in him because this woman said she loved him yet he second-guessed himself and her. He decided to talk to someone about it.
He told the counselor that he loved the woman so much that he had trouble eating and sleeping and thinking about anything else. He found relationships hard. He didn't want to run from this relationship, but he felt like "the meaning of life is riding on whether or not she likes me...whether or not she loves me."
The counselor said something that impacted him.
"...for some reason you are letting this girl name you.""You are letting her decide your value. Your love has to come from God, And God wants you to receive His love and to love yourself too."
// posted by Annette @ 9:54 p.m. 