Monday, May 24, 2010

Just Call Me Rhonda

Growing up, I've never liked my name.

When I was a kid, I went around telling my friends in elementary school that my real name was Rhonda.

To this day, I don't know why I picked that particular name. I guess I liked the sound of it then, though now I'm wondering why I didn't pick something that was more flowery like Heather or Rosalind.

Something majestic like Elizabeth or Katherine would have been better than Rhonda.

Even something like Sunlight or Cream Puff would have been prettier to me than that, for Pete's sake.

Many people mistakenly thought my name was just a couple letters- DJ. I often ended up grinding my teeth trying to explain to them that I had a REAL name. I would have to go into the story of how I received my name upon my birth.

I was named after my father.

They took his first and middle initials and just spelled them out. Problem was everyone called me DJ.

The reason I didn't like this was because I believed that was a boy's name. I would meet boys of all ages with the name DJ. Of course, it was just a nickname, but I ended up being extremely irritated with feminine angst. All of this was compounded by the fact that I was named after a MAN as well.

I was definitely NOT a tomboy. I was a girly girl through and through.

What kind of girl ended up with her knight in shining armor only for him to call her DJ? Only in the books does he call her "Rosalind, my love!"

Even though it was not easy growing up with the name, I have come to terms with it....or so I thought.

Today, I got to talking to my boys about the meaning of their names.

We even googled them.

Definitions like loyal, steadfast, gift of God, peaceful valley, protector, defender, fiery, Christ-bearer, righteous, manly, warrior....the list goes on.

I wanted them to realize that the names their father gave them are something to be proud of.

They are names that are not only rich in meaning, but fit their personalities as well. I know in my heart that the names my husband gave to our sons were also given by God.

Then, Grumpy wanted to know the meaning of my name.

I decided to google my dad's name and the meaning means "white" or "blond". It's also a form of Dionysius who happens to be the Greek god of wine.

Hmmm. Not being blond myself I decided to google my name "Dee".

It means swarthy.

SWARTHY! SWARTHY?

Forget that.

I have decided to just forego the literal meaning of my name and be happy with the fact that I was named after a man that I love and respect.

He is a man who dedicates his life to God and taught me about Him. He is a man who God has His hand on. He is a wonderful father and grandfather.

I am proud to bear his name.

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