What’s in a Name?

To sponge from Shakespeare, since a Gift from God is a Gift from God by any other name, we set out to determine our son’s given name.

“How about Joseph Paul?” I asked. Rose said no, and I let out an inaudible whine. See, Elizabeth would have been Joseph Paul if she had been a boy, so I figured the name would be automatic if God blessed us with another boy, and Little Dang fit that bill perfectly.
She was nice about it; her main knock on the name was that he didn’t look like a Joseph. Even though I have never subscribed to the “doesn’t look like” angle with names (what does a Demian look like, ya know? Don’t answer!), in this case, well, I had to agree with Rose.

So we went forward, in no particular rush. There was no one from the Social Security Administration putting us under duress with reminders that we “couldn’t leave the hospital without naming the baby.” And, frankly, we spent time just cherishing his Chinese name, which we intended to keep in its entirety, albeit with modest changes. Plus, I enjoyed calling our son Little Dang, a term of endearment when considering he shared the same surname with Aunt Mary and Uncle Chi.

Even though it took ten days to make the final decision, the secret is that I offered up “Ray” just the day after the kibosh on Joseph. He was going to have a long name as it was, so one syllable was desirable (though it is short for Raymond). Most importantly, we wanted to name you after a family member if possible.

Coming into this – his – family Ray sports a healthy share of uncles. Heck, I learned that when marrying his mother. For him, there are ten uncles, and near twice that in great-uncles. They are all wonderful and choices, difficult as they are, must be made.

Ray is named after his Uncle Ray, the youngest boy is the Schissler family, and just 13 months older than Rose. He is one of those people God places in our lives to show you how much He loves you. Ray knows a ton of people and is treasured by most of them, be it as a son, husband, father, brother, brother-in-law, uncle, nephew, or friend. I trust his namesake will come to know and see him as amazing person; maybe our son will be encouraged to adopt his uncle’s “can do” attitude and endless care for fellow human beings, in good times and in bad, in moments minute and momentous.

There is other richness tied to our boy’s name. It is English, which is a part of our family’s heritage. Ray’s Great-Grandmother Seeley (aka Nana) was born and raised in England; she made her way across the Atlantic Ocean as a war-bride after marrying my Grandpa Seeley.

Also, Ray means “mighty protector.” Here, with reflection, we see appropriateness when considering his early life, and possibly a calling for later in life.

At a recent wedding, the mother of the bride said, “So tell me all about your son.” That question had yet to be posed to me, at least in the depth intended by this dear family friend. With no planned response these words came: “He is a survivor.” While there is likely a broader meaning to that, in an ordinary way it was meant to convey that he is a tough kid; certainly much tougher than me. Even so, to return to the meaning of Raymond, it must be acknowledged that he had mighty protectors to get him to this moment.

Here, and first, we find Ray’s birth mother. With stated uneasiness, we do not pretend to know her story. However, in our hearts we see a woman who valued the gift of life and who, without all the answers, had the courage to bring a child into this world. This courage then translated into a faith that fueled true sacrifice; knowing she could not care for any child at that time, she sought out a new line of protectors for him. Rose and I owe our gratitude to her.

Ray’s new guardians who cared for him did so physically, emotionally, and spiritually; they were close to him, as well as on the other side of the world. He had caretakers, social workers, administrators in China, and facilitators and prayer warriors over in the United States.

And, no doubt, our son had helpers in Heaven; who they were, is God’s knowledge, and yet your great-grandparents come to heart, save for Nana who, praise God, is with us and excited! Their names are Seeley, Idzik, Schissler, and Long; with pasts that molded Ray’s mother and me, their spiritual presence will shape his future. As much as those good folks valued family and the gift of life, they’d be tickled if they were still with us.

There is also the clear connection of “light” to Ray’s name. Maybe, however, it’s unfair to read into that, for fear of it unintentionally putting expectations on our son. Today we are simply grateful of the sunshine our Little Yellow-Tiger Boy has already brought into our home. Into his family.