What’s in a Name: A Lesson from my Dad

Growing up I often felt as if I was not my own self but rather an extension of those around me. I never seemed to be introduced as “Melonie”.  If we were at home I was “The Preacher’s Kid” or “Mrs. Brodbent’s Daughter” (mom’s a teacher).  Once a year during our family reunions I became simply “Evalee’s”. 

I thought that maybe when I got older and began to live my own life that finally I might be able to be me.  Nope, not gonna happen.  About that time my kid brother’s (who is a child genius, started his own business at eleven, was a member of the chamber of commerce by fourteen, and graduated high school at sixteen) business started exploding and I turned into “Josh’s Sister”.  Then I got married and I knew that now I would gain the honor of being able to be introduced as me.  I waited eagerly for the first opportunity to arrive and stood patiently wanting to soak it in.  “Hey! This is Mrs. Hixon, you know…Chuck’s wife.”

Really!?

Because of this traumatic upbringing I tend to pay attention to how people are referred to.  Last Wednesday Chuck and I visited a local church.  As I was watching Hila Fay get settled into the nursery the new pastor came over and introduced himself.  We chatted for a moment before it came up that he knew my father.  I waited for usual “preacher’s kid” joke but was quite stunned, and proud, when instead he said, “Yea, he prays for me every Sunday.”

Wow! What an absolutely amazing testimony!  How would it be to have such intense ministry (dad has bunches and bunches of preachers and ministry people that he systematically prays for, if you are interested you can find him on Facebook under Pastor Al Brodbent) that you are introduced by it? Or what if your christian zeal became so well known that you began to be described as, “You know, the one that leads all those people to Christ” or “She’s that lady who’s always going around helping everyone else”?

I know longer desire to be introduced as me.  It seems as if finally I have warmed up to the idea of labels.  It also seems that one is never too old to be properly schooled by their dad.  Love you Old Man, thanks for the inspiration.

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