In most non-western, 2/3 world cultures, names are sacred.
They are not chosen for the mere aesthetic of how they roll off the tongue. It is what they mean that matters.
We see this value and tradition in Ancient Israel (Old Testament) and during the era of the first century church (New Testament).
It is also the tradition in which I named my boys: Judah (after the Lion of Judah), and Jericho (after the supernatural victory).
We also see the pattern of God giving NEW NAMES at critical junctures:
Abram became Abraham.
Sarai became Sarah.
Jacob became Israel.
Simon became Peter.
Saul became Paul.
My little family has survived a season in the Valley of the Shadow of Death...
The kind of gold produced from a crucible and sifting as we have survived confronts one with a new reality. A new beginning. A new resilience. A new resolve.
And a new name.
Stay Tuned.
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