The Importance of a Name

Many of you know that I bowl in a league on Thursday nights--that I joined the league the very first Thursday night I was in Columbia and have been an active part of it ever since. Over the course of a year--yes, I've been here for one year next week--I've met some neat people--people very different than those who live in the mostly Caucasian, Christian circles in which I work. Three of those people are on one team, and their names are Tony, Pat, and Sam.

Tony and Pat are married. They drive almost an hour each week to bowl. Tony only has use of one arm, yet he is very good and very happy and very encouraging. Pat almost always has her blue-tooth in her ear, wears many different hair styles, and simply saunters up to the lane to release the ball. Sam is a short, chubby, bald guy with a lovely smile, sweet spirit, funny little strike dance, and strong smell of yummy cologne!

We bowled Tony, Pat, and Sam's team last week. [Their fourth person this year is Lizzy, but I'm still getting to know her. Last year their fourth person was Joe the super serious, stylin' bowler who owned over 30 bowling balls.] I've spoken with Tony and Sam on many occasions because they are both very outgoing and jovial. I've spoken with Pat, too, but she is quieter and harder to get to know. So it really surprised me last week when Pat was the one who came to my name's rescue.

Every time Sam addressed me last week--to say good job or almost or you'll get it next name--he called me Dana or Dina or Dena--names close to mine but not exactly my name. And every time he did it, Pat popped up and emphatically declared, "It's DeANNA, Sam. DeANNA." I bet this happened at least 5 times.

I had no idea that Pat knew my name, much less that she felt so strongly that Sam get it right! But she did!

So when I saw Sam last night, I said, "Hey Sam!" He looked at me, grinned, and said, "Hey DeANNA!" I grinned back.

Names are important, I suppose. They identify us and become representative of who we are. I don't know the exact meaning of my name; I'm sure I could look it up. But I know that I like my name and that I am Deanna (Dee for short) and that I can't imagine being anyone else. I suppose, again, that I would change my name if God so directed--like Abram/Abraham and Sarai/Sarah and Jacob/Israel and Saul/Paul--but for now I'm content with being DeANNA and with Pat being the cheerleader and defender of my name.

May Deanna be known for love, grace, openness, and joyful peace...

Amen.