Several months ago, Kate and I were worried about what to name our son, who will be joining us in about six weeks. We looked at name lists, family trees and the Bible for inspiration. I made a big deal in a post about the meaning of a name, and then the name we chose - Grayson - means son of the bailiff. That's right. The courtroom security guy. But it really was the only name that was always on our ever-changing list, the only one that was never removed, as may were taken off and put back on.
So, what's in a name, I asked. When it comes to naming children, there is a lot of pressure to make sure he doesn't get beat up or made fun of, but as long as we like it, that's what really matters, right?
In Biblical times, parents were often told what to name their children or they were given a name that would literally define their life. Take Jacob, for example. He was a twin, born second, and named heel-grabber, which also meant deceiver. He went through life tricking his brother and taking advantage of him, only to be renamed by God. After wrestling with God all night, Jacob was given the name Israel, meaning one who struggles or wrestles with God (for a great story of transformation and redemption, read Genesis chapters 25-32).
Jacob didn't pick either of his names, but he lived up to them. For good or for bad. There's a parallel here somewhere to the way God moves in our lives.
From the beginning of time, I believe, God has called each of us to a certain life. He created us exactly the way we are. Sure, our parents gave us a name, but it is up to us to answer God's call on our life. To follow him or not. I believe God wants us all to chose him, to chose eternal life with him, but he doesn't force us into that decision. I also believe he knows what we will chose before we chose it. I can't get into a theology debate here (even though it would be with myself) about free will versus predestination. I just can't do it.
I can tell you that God tried to get a hold of me around age 14 when for some reason I developed a strange interest in Christian music. I started to pray on occasion but I still don't know why. God called. I didn't answer.
Fortunately, he called again when I was 16, and this time I was more than happy to pick up. I could have continued to ride the fence and never taken the plunge, or whatever cliche you want to use. I could have stayed in my bubble, continuing to live in a fantasy world where I could satisfy myself and the things of this world would fill me up. If I hadn't turned to God then, I'm not saying he wouldn't have tried to reach me again, but I don't know if I would have been accepting. God wanted me to accept his offer of everlasting love, but I wasn't ready for it. There might be a lot of people out there who God is calling to, but who just aren't willing or ready to say yes to the gifts he has for us.

Ryan goes to an art museum

I feel cultured today after my first trip to the Cincinnati Art Museum - actually my first time at any art museum. There is a Picasso exhibit at the museum right now, and I never realized the drastic differences from one of his pieces to the next. I guess the genius behind Picasso is that one painting is the most magnificent thing you could imagine and the next, if I drew it, you would even think it was terrible. I envied the talent of all the artists displayed there and their ability to imagine and create such vivid pictures and stories through their art.
It really got me thinking about the story I am telling and what I am creating.
My grandfather was an artist, a painter mostly, but he could also build anything you asked him too. How I wish I had his talent when it comes to art! I can't build either. Kate takes care of most of the handy work around our house.
I suppose writing is my art form, as that is where my creativity comes out (or at least I'd like to think so). I don't write enough, as evidenced by my lack of posts recently, which I think happens to many people like me, who are ambitious at first but let that fade away. If I don't write, I won't be any good at it, and I won't have an outlet to release many of my thoughts.
But more than that, as the reality sets in that my son will be born in less than two months, I am more concerned with the story my life is telling rather than my words. I am going to be entrusted with caring for and loving this child, and raising him to be a man who loves God and wants to serve him because he wants to and not because I told him to.
Don't get me wrong - I can't wait to play catch with him and watch him strike out and hit home runs and give him unsolicited fatherly advice. But it really is a lot of pressure, especially if I take an honest look at my life. I am far too concerned with myself right now, often spending too much time thinking about work or being upset that I can't do what I want to do because of this or that. I better get used to someone else dictating my schedule though. I have always wanted to be a dad and I can't wait until my boy is born, but I have a lot of work to do before that happens.
By the way, Kate and I really enjoyed the paintings of Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot. I encourage you to Google image his stuff and find something that tells you a story, then take some time to think about how you express yourself. What is your art? What are you creating?