Your name...my name

 I find that when people meet me and the recognition of Millie’s story hits them, they often ask me, “are you ‘Millie’s Mama’?” I always respond audibly, “YES!” as I love to talk about Millie and her life, but my heart is pricked as I often think, “I am also 8 other people’s mama”. Each of those people so dear to me of course. I often wonder should I speak that out loud? These thoughts got me thinking how do we identify ourselves? What name are we given? What names do we choose and how do they direct who we are and our life purpose?

“A name represents identity, a deep feeling, and holds significance to its owner.” –Rachel Ingber

Names truly do hold great significance to the owner as the above statement says, mainly because they set the stage for who we are. Names give us a purpose and a direction for our life. They are our own personal brand and description. Scripture tells us:

“A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.” Proverbs 22:1

According to that verse we should worry about our name being a good name, not in the actual sound, but rather in who it defines us as.

From the moment we are each conceived, we are each called something. Often a fond nickname, but at least ‘the baby’. At birth we are often assigned other names, often with well thought out and chosen meanings. For me a few of these names being:

--Baby Girl

--Daughter

--Courtney

As a little girl my grandpa, the most influential man in my life, called me “Sister Pickle”. This man was sure I was a gift straight from God, a blessing to our family and he never let me forget it. He was so instrumental in me seeing and recognizing faithfulness as he walked out faith in Christ even in the face of big mistakes that led to lifelong consequences for not only himself but his son and grandchildren. The grandpa I knew was humble, loved my grandmother unfailingly, and was extremely generous. He loved that young teenage boy I showed up with and even walked me down the aisle to give me to him 30 years ago. When my preacher uncle said, “Who gives this woman away?” my Grandpa answered, “Her mother, grandmother, and I”. From that moment I became known as wife, helpmeet, and Mrs. David Mount. That same boy then grew up to be a man that willingly chose to take grandpa into our home and care for him until death. They loved and honored each other. They are two of the most God fearing and loving men I will ever know.

As I took my new names to heart and started to absorb the responsibilities these names held to my identity, I begin to see that these names needed to be the lens I viewed myself through. No longer was I just an individual, rather I was now in the position to represent both myself and my husband. What an awesome privilege and responsibility that began as I said, “I do!”

As I still continually seek to live out these names, I seek to be known as a wife who honors her husband in all that I do. I desire to speak kindly to him, but just as importantly to speak kindly ABOUT him to others. I want to fully embrace this blessed name of WIFE as the high calling it is. When a man can find this in a wife, he has found what the Lord says is favor from him.

“He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.” -- Proverbs 18:22

The next names I acquired over the years was Mommy, Mama, and Mom to my precious children. I love that name! I love every moment with them, even the hard ones. There are times though that I have had to remind myself that I love the hard or even the tedious moments. Two recent events came to my mind that I will share.

Sweet Abby asked me to hem her dress numerous times during this school year, yet each time I had free time she was too busy to try it on. Finally, late the night before her Easter Recital she again asked me to hem it so she could wear it the next morning. There was no putting it off, but I was tired—and to be honest, mad! I griped and complained that she had waited until I was tired and didn’t want to do it. As I hemmed the dress taking less than 10 minutes, the Lord spoke to my heart about my wretched attitude. He reminded me that I would give anything to hem Millie’s dresses again. He reminded me what a blessing Abby is to me. He humbled my heart and brought tears to my eyes. I finished the dress, sought her out and apologized, asking for forgiveness for my attitude and anger. She graciously forgave me and looked beautiful in the dress the next morning. Heart check!

Today was another one of those days I needed to be grateful to be a mom, but it came AFTER all the hard stuff. During school, I left the room for a moment when I hear bloodcurdling screams and sobbing from SJ. As I ran to her, she informed me Little Man had stabbed her hand with a pencil. Blood was dripping from a gash in her hand, which needed to be inspected, cleaned, and bandaged. I even wondered if we would need stitches. I had to find the pencil to ensure no lead was broken off in her hand. I WAS MAD at him to say the least!

As I sat down to discipline him, I talked through what had happened. “Son, what were you thinking? Why would you stab SJ?”

“Mom I am tired of her attacking me?” WHAT? Now I was more upset…she attacked first? We continued to talk, “What did Jesus say to do?” Little Man says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you… so I attacked her back!” His heart was very belligerent at this point. He fully justified his reaction, even though we discussed what that scripture really means. He eventually broke and told me how sorry he was. I asked him to wait in his room while I talked to her.

As I entered her room and told her again how sorry I was that she was hurt, I ask why she thought fighting with him was a good idea? Realizing I knew the truth, she began to confess how mad she got at him for being annoying and so she scratched him. She had no idea he would respond so violently (and I truly believe he did not stop to think, just lashed out). We talked for a long time and she too repented to me, then she went to him so they could make up.

This was a hard, emotional morning, especially when I had to follow through with the predetermined consequences of him missing playing with the friends that were coming to our house to play. He sat on his bed and hopefully with the mindfulness to use self-control next time. She received extra household chores for her behavior.

What gratefulness can I see in this fiasco you might wonder? The opportunity to see my children walk closer to the Lord as they learn his ways, learn to humble themselves, and love one another.

The name of parent is a hard one. I can only imagine what our heavenly Father must think of our behavior on a daily basis. How he firmly but lovingly guides us back into fellowship. How he teaches us to follow him. How he walks through our messy lives by our side, often carrying us. I hope you know him as your loving parent.

On a side note, our precious Millie’s real name was Amelia Joy. We searched for a name for her and loved this one when we realized Amelia meant ‘worker’. We were so excited to have a “Joyful Worker” in our home. That funny still causes me to smile. She wasn’t always joyful, but she filled us with JOY, and she loved to work with us.

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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