God Calls Me…

My Great-Granddaddy’s name was James Salter. Or at least it was until the life insurance man came out to the farm and began filling out the life insurance paperwork. The conversation went something like this:

“Last name?”

“Salter.”

“Very good. First name?”

“James.”

“Okay. Middle name?”

(Silence, followed by the sound of the ticking clock.)

“Mr. Salter, what’s your middle name?”

“I don’t have a middle name.”

The insurance man scoffed. “You don’t have a middle name?! Why, Mr. Salter, you must have a middle name in order to get our insurance! I cannot leave a single line incomplete on this form or it will not be processed.”

Great-Granddaddy Salter stared at the man in silence and finally, the Jefferson Pilot insurance man came up with an idea.

“What about Samuel? James Samuel Salter? How does that sound to you?”

Great-Granddaddy shrugged and signed the paperwork, “James Samuel Salter.” And thus my Great-Granddaddy was renamed.

A similar story comes from my mother’s side of the family. My Great-Grandmother Davis (nee Mason), whom we always called Mama Davis, had a baby brother who was named YZ because by the time he came around, they already had a flock of children and had run out of creativity and originality in the area of naming their children.

When YZ grew up, he joined the military. When he went to sign up, the conversation went something like this:

“Last name?”

“Mason.”

“Very good. First name?”

“YZ.”

“Fine. What is YZ short for?”

(Silence, followed by the sound of the ticking clock.)

The recruiter scoffed. “Mr. Mason, it must stand for something! I can’t write initials down on this form! They won’t even process it without a real name on it!”

The recruiter stared at my Great-Great-Uncle YZ until finally, YZ shrugged.

“Okay, YZ stands for Yates Zane. My name is Yates Zane Mason.”

So, he signed the paperwork “Yates Zane Mason” and thus, my Great-Great-Uncle was renamed.

My Dad has never been a big fan of nicknames. He’s never said why, but if I had to venture a guess, I’d say that it was probably because he was called some not-so-nice things when he was a kid. I think we’ve all been there. The chunky kids get called “fatty” and the thin kids get called “stick” and the kids that wear glasses get called “four-eyes” and the kids that have braces get called “metal mouth.” And on and on it goes.

When I was a child, the enemy decided to name me. He named me, “VICTIM” and for many years, I answered to that name. After many years, I began to believe that I was a victim and so I began to walk like a victim, talk like a victim, and think like a victim. And sometimes, I was a victim.

But I think I can learn a lesson from my Great-Grandpapa and my Great-Great-Uncle YZ. It doesn’t matter what you’re called. What matters is what does GOD call you?

My God calls me Beloved. He calls me Daughter. He calls me Friend. He calls me Righteous. He calls me Strong. He calls me Courageous. He calls me His.

And as long as God calls me those things, I refuse to answer to ANYthing that the enemy calls me.

And that’s another lesson that I’ve learned on the farm…

 

 

 

About Sarah Salter

Comments

  1. Names are important. My own father (I’m a junior) was anmeless for several weeks after he was born because my grandparents couldn’t agree on a name.

    But you’re right, Sarah. God names us each of us Beloved.

  2. There is someone and probably not who you are thinking, that I wish would read this.. but (he) probably never will.. I will tell you that story later.. Happened today… Very good blog mate…I am thankful that God has a name for each of us.

  3. Yes, he calls you all of those things. Most important, He calls. Wonderful words, Sarah.

    “Sarah – princess or lady of high refinement” – ‘nuf said.

  4. Absolutely- a great post.

    Although somehow I skipped over that you said the enemy called you VICTIM and I thought your family did (even though that didn’t make sense with your previous statement). I thought “What?” then I read it. Goes to show, gotta pay attention… Sometimes you have to read in between the lines and sometimes you just gotta read the lines themselves. :)

  5. mama & Ruby says:

    My little “love bug”!!!! Remember my song!

  6. You know, my precious, amazing TJ is called a few of these things in school and it breaks my heart. I have to act stronger than I am and tell him things that I wish I knew at that age…

  7. Sarah Salter says:

    Kimae- Do I need to come down there and knock some little kids around?! It was hard when it was US that were being called names. SO MUCH HARDER when it’s your kids… Or in my case, other peoples’ kids that you love.

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