When God Names Us
When we chose her name, we had a two-dimensional version of her in our inbox, accompanied by four sentences. Three of them spoke of what she wasn’t: clear of HIV, fatherless, and without a real home. Even her picture was indistinct; she wore the uniform of the orphanage that was now her home.
Buried in there was the only information we had on her personality: “she is a very active girl.”
We, like you, chose a name knowing only the gender and that this baby could kick — except for us, she already had five years of life which held mystery. She lost her first tooth in Uganda; we never saw it come in before it left.
Hope, we decided as we drove, with the Rockies to our backs and across the Kansas plains. The barrenness which winter left behind, that February, seemed an appropriate back-drop of this name — one that was more about us than it was about her, at the time.
This was our year to hope [continue reading over here, on my guest post at Women of God Magazine -->]
