In my last post I mentioned something about names and what they denote about a person’s character. Today, I’d like to take that argument further by talking about my own name.
My mother wanted to name me Sunshine. Those who know me know how completely dead on that would have been. I have more than a slight obsession with sunshine.
They settled on Jamie. I like Jamie. But the part of my name that I’ve always had an emotional connection to is my middle name.
Ruth.
My grandmother’s name is Ruth. I am very much like my grandmother. Right down to our extremely disconcerting habit of nervous laughter. And the two of us are very similar to our namesake: Ruth the Moabitess.
Brief synopsis on the Ruth of the Bible. She married Naomi’s son. He died. She chose to stay with Naomi. “Your people will be my people, your God will be my God.” She traveled far away and served her mother-in-law. In the end God blessed her with another husband and she had a baby.
Now, I don’t know if OT Ruth had any troubles with inappropriate giggles, but she shares other qualities with us. Both my grandmother and myself are fiercely loyal, steadfast, faithful, bold, and family-oriented.
I sometimes wonder if I inherited those qualities from her, or if I adopted them as my own from reading the story over and over because I saw my name. Either way. My parent’s choice has shaped the person who I have become.
I was rightly named.
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