What's in a Name?

My daughter (who was has been both Girl Scout and Girl Scout Camp counselor) tells me that these days, all the counselors have "camp names".  The camp name is a nickname, most kinda silly, to give the counselors a bit of privacy along with a certain air of mystery.  The counselors generally choose these names for themselves, and they tend to be things that are somehow descriptive, like "Poptart" for the counselor who swears she could live on Poptarts,  or "Splash" who runs the pool, or "Scarlet" with the bright red hair.

I was a Girl Scout who loved summer resident camp, and got the chance to work as a counselor one summer at my favorite camp.  Back in my camp days, though, not all the counselors had camp names, and camp names were earned or otherwise given by the other counselors.  Sure, the names might still be quite descriptive like they are now, but you didn't just choose one for yourself.  There would be an incident to inspire the name, or perhaps a simple observation that suggested a name, or a name you brought with you from past summers - SOMETHING!  And I've always been a little sad that I was one of those unfortunates who never inspired a camp name.  I was always just Linda, not Princess Moonbeam, or Smurfette, or Little Gray Pigeon, or something otherwise fun or intriguing.  And I've always felt that made me somehow "less."

Names are important, after all.  We are each identified by a name of some sort, and baggage that comes with your particular string of syllables will color your view of the world.  Whether common or unusual, simple or a nightmare to spell, connecting you with fine upstanding citizens or folks who's manner of living can't withstand the light of day - whatever your name, it helps you understand who you are and your place in the world.

A name given in infancy, however, can convey only so much about a person.  That's why there's something extra-special about a name bestowed in (more-or-less) adulthood, like the camp name.  A name GIVEN by someone who knows you implies relationship and care.  And I guess that's what saddened me about not having been given a camp name: the implication that no one I served with that summer either knew me well enough or cared enough to give me a name.

However, I think my lack of a camp name says more about my own introverted nature than anything ill-natured or lacking in my fellow counselors.  We introverts don't  readily share ourselves with just any-old-body, and the fewer people there are who really know you, the less likely you are to be given another name.  But we can take heart, because God knows everyone, to the deepest recesses of the heart.

God knows who you are - because He made you.  And He knows what you'll accomplish - because he exists outside of the constraints of time.  And God has a habit of giving people new names to better reflect who they are or what they will accomplish.  Abram and Sarai became Abraham and Sarah, Simon became Peter, and Saul became Paul, to mention just a few of the most notable examples.  When God claims you, God names you!

My name may still be "Linda" as far as I and the world knows.  But Jesus knows my heart and soul, and has a new name for me.  I long for the day when it shall be revealed to me, when I meet my Maker and Savior, and He reveals to me who He has intended me to be since before the foundations of the world were laid.

"I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it." (Revelation 2:17)

Take comfort, you lonely ones - Jesus knows your name!