Second, I had the privilege of writing a guest post over at Offering Hospitality on the subject of personal retreats. If you have a few minutes, I'd love for you to stop by!
Today, my 32nd birthday, seems an appropriate time to thank my parents for not just my life, but for my name. Because the truth is, I like my name. I remember being told that my parents considered the name "Caroline," and even though that is clearly just a tad different from their final selection, I don't think it would suit me as well. More important than the sound of the name is the meaning. I wrote a poem about my name in college that I shared here a few years ago, but I thought I would re-post it today.
I pushed into the cold
two months early,
instead of staying tucked safe inside
'til St. Patrick's Day.
from my warm jelly sac,
I was placed into a heated glass box.
My skin was yellow and wrinkled and hairless,
and my body was scrawny,
less on the scales
than a standard bag of white sugar.
Daddy held me in the palm of his hand.
My tiny fingers fought tenaciously to grasp his,
so my parents named me "Carrie," which means "Strength."
Despite my current name appreciation, I do recall as a young girl that I really wished my name was Victoria. I also remember that when Monica and I would play dress up, I wanted my name to be "Karen Puff." Quite humorous, especially when you consider how similar the names Karen and Carrie are!
So, what about you? What do you think of your name? And do you know what your name means?
A couple of "Cliff's Notes" for the poem: My due date was March 17, so I was born 7 weeks early. I weighed just 4 pounds, 13 ounces, and the heated glass box refers to the incubator I spent my first days in. A standard bag of sugar used to be 5 pounds, not 4 like it is now.
Finally, as usual, best wishes to my birthday twin, Abbey!