My name means consecrated to God. That probably explains how a girl who went through the craziness I did just in my first 15 years can still be sane enough to be sitting here typing this today. And while my level of sanity may be up for debate, I think it goes without saying that I have been immensely blessed. I pray that my life bears out being consecrated to God.

Our first son was named Jeffery (God’s peace) Morgan (bright sea). Jeff was named after his paternal grandfather, which adds a dab of hilarity to the fact that the boy who would tell his Sunday School teacher he hated her and kick a church elder in the shin would be named “God’s peace”. Perhaps it is because he would need heavy helpings of God’s peace throughout his life. As for “bright sea”, I can completely see that image in our science museum educator who loves all things marine (as does his daughter Morgan–another fun irony).

Then came Luke (bringer of light) Steven (crown). It isn’t hard to see that every moment of every day, Luke brings light to the Crown–his savior Jesus. The most compliant child I’ve ever known, he has grown up to be one of the strongest people I know, always shining and standing like a beacon drawing people to a closer relationship with Christ.

Jamie Lee (meadow) returned to Heaven after only 11 weeks of earthly growth.

Our beautiful Heather Rose, named for two lovely flowers, was born with Beta Strep she couldn’t conquer and would bloom only in Heaven.

Next was Trevor (prudent) Joel (the Lord is God). I remain convinced that our “middle child” was placed strategically in birth order as the fulcrum of the family. Our balance beam, he is the perfect blend of strength and wisdom (which also goes back to the “prudent”), bearing out in word and deed that the Lord truly is God.

The last of our sons was born Matthew (gift of Jehovah) Gary (spear rule). While his first name was chosen because of its meaning, we had not researched the meaning of the name Gary because he was named after my brother. I find it rather comical considering his love for weaponry that Gary means “spear rule”. The story behind his being named Matthew is that the day I had the sonogram where I found out he was a boy, a thoughtless parent at a flag football game asked, “You disappointed it’s another boy?” I sobbed like a baby that anyone could think I wasn’t ecstatic that he was a boy. I went home that day and found him a name that would remind him every minute that I consider him a gift from God.

Our last child was Rose (flower) Michele (who is like God?). She certainly is a beautiful flower who lives out a precious humility acknowledging that there is no one like our God. Not only is she both witty and wise, she is the loveliest person, inside and out, that I’ve ever known.

So what’s in a name? A lot, I would say.

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