The meaning of names intrigues me. Always has. All words are powerful, but names encapsulate identity. And they speak of the relationship between namer and named: This is what I think of you; this is who you are to me.
My name is Margaret. It means “pearl.” To see oneself as a treasure, a gem made through living processes, unique and valuable—that sounds like a great foundation to build an understanding of identity and worth.
But sadly, the enemy of our souls can take the gift of a good name and distort it. If he can attack our identity, we don’t even need a host of tragic circumstances to paralyze us. Another lecture on “who we are” can be enough to pin us down. Snake-talk is cruel.
The pearl lecture would sound something like this: “No matter what God does in your life to cover it up, you will always know the truth—that at your core you are just a worthless piece of sand, an irritation that landed in the wrong place. Talk about making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. God may have felt obligated to do something to save you, but you and I will always know the truth. Deep down, you were just an irritation, a piece of trash that He tried to make the best of.”
Word to the wise, anytime the devil hints that you and he share a more accurate understanding of reality than God does, run away.
Sometimes though, for me, flight yielded to fright. And I was beaten again.
Mercifully, a heavenward glance that said, “Help, he’s doing it again,” brought the Father’s truth to bear against the bondage.
My God reminded me that He created the dry land—every grain of sand. It too is His handiwork, His design, His possession. There is nothing wrong with the dust of the ground. It was His material of choice for making man in the first place. Of course a pearl starts with sand. That only means that I am His creation through and through—all the way to the core.
Furthermore, I didn’t fall into the wrong spot. He chose me. He sought me out. If He was the oyster, He sucked me in.
And finally, yes, there was pain involved in redeeming me, in enduring the cross on my behalf. But it was a pain He willingly embraced, not in irritation or exasperation, but “for the joy set before Him” (Hebrews 12:2).
I am His creation through and through, sought out to be redeemed and transformed into a living pearl. That is my identity. A jewel, valuable to Him, made in a process layer upon layer upon layer to His delight.
How precious are Your thoughts toward me, God. How vast is the sum of them. If I were to count them, they would outnumber the pearl seeds—I mean, grains of sand. Psalm 139:17-18.
Now, my friend, what’s your name?