A Harbor, a Safe Place, or . . . a Landing Zone for Chalk or Limestone?

That's me. If you want chalk or limestone, apparently I'm the one to talk to. It's my name. In the Ancient Near East, in biblical times, names were often taken as a prediction or as accurate descriptions of their owners. "Isaac" is a pun on laughter, "Jabez" meant pain, and "Esau" meant something like red and/or hairy, which he was. Your name used to say so much more about you than it does today. Naming a boy "Mark" does not necessarily mean that he will be "rebellious" any more than naming a girl "Brianna" will mean she is "strong."

But still. What if people tried to be like their names? Mine intrigues me. I want to be a harbor, a safe place. I want people to feel like they are safe with me, that they can trust me. They really can.

When people have been sailing a long time and they feel exhausted, suspicious, torn and jaded by the endless sea, I could be someone they can talk to, a place where their dreams, fears, hopes, motives and insecurities can rest in a harbor. Of course, Christ is the only true harbor and safe place, but I want to be a dependable person nonetheless. Metaphorical ships are safe with me, I assure you. I don't know much about real ships or actual, physical harbors, so my name doesn't work literally. However, I am not threatening or dangerous. I don't really want to emulate a landing zone for chalk or limestone, but I have been using chalk on a somewhat regular basis this summer.

So: what does your name mean, and do you want to embody that definition? Does your name describe you? Do you want it to?