Just to Name a Few

Some time ago I became aware of the fact that the meanings of names ... had meaning. I talked to a guy from Iran who told me his parents named him for what they wanted him to be. I talked to a guy from China and he told me the same thing. And I noted how many times in Scripture children were named for the meaning. So when I named my two sons, I did it with the meaning ... the message ... in mind.

My parents didn't do that with me ... it wasn't part of our culture. Still, I thought I'd take a look. My name is Stanley David Smith. Now, "the smith" is actually biblical. We learn in Isaiah that God claims, "I Myself have created the smith" (Isa 54:16). My mother told me that Adam's last name was Smith, and anyone who sinned afterward had to change their name, so you see ... oh, okay. That part is a joke, but it's gratifying to know that God created the smith. However, the word is a common term indicating the vocation of being a smith of some sort -- a worker in metal. "David," of course, is a biblical name, too. It means "beloved." I like that ... so much that I named my firstborn "David." (Boy, was she mad. No ... just kidding. I had two sons.) So that leaves "Stanley." It's actually from Old English and is a compound word. "Stan" is an Old English word, "stān," meaning "stone" or "rock." "Ley" is the same as other spellings, such as "Leigh." It refers to a meadow. (Interestingly, the name Leah is different. While "Leigh" refers to a peaceful meadow, "Leah" refers to "weary" or "grieved.") Putting them together, then, "Stanley" means "rocky meadow."

My parents didn't name me for what they saw me as or what they wanted me to be. Like most in our culture, I was named for people -- family, friends. It's fine, but I think it's interesting, too, because the name ... fits. Before I was any kind of person, I was labeled as a beloved rocky meadow. It turns out I am beloved ... by my wife and my children, my family, and most of all, my God. And "rocky meadow" is quite appropriate for me. On the surface, I appear peaceful and calm, but there are ... in this "meadow" of my life, rocks just beneath the grass, so to speak. Tough spots, hard places, things to avoid. Now, if you were to poetically interpret my name, it might come out something like "The beloved one who stands firm in the clearing, shaping his world with skilled hands." Well ... maybe ... but only if the "skilled hands" refers to my God who is at work in me.

No deep message here. Just a mild musing for a Friday.