In A Name

Last year during Phoneathon, I discovered something that I'd forgotten until last night, when calling dozens of strangers to ask them for money once again brought it to my mind.

When it comes to calling, I consider myself something of a pro. I'm a shark. Few people get away with not giving, and if they do, they feel guilty for it (my secret: I'm incredibly nice, I love Union, and I essentially sweet-talk 'em). But there is a fail-proof way of getting out of a call with me scot-free. When someone interrupts me and rudely says they're not interested, I give it another shot with a "gimmick ask" of "A Penny for Your Graduation Year" ($19.98 if you graduated in 1998). But sometimes people listen politely and then turn me down. When I go in for the second ask, they get me. "Katie," they say firmly. "I said I wasn't interested."

When they use my name, I'm jello. Not in a good way. I can't be aggressive with a stranger who calls me by my name in a disapproving way. It's like an on-off switch. Crazy.

The "something" I realized is that there is something intrinsically and mystically powerful about names. By names I mean one's own name, and the act of naming something, and the names that God has in mind to give us all one day.

I'm pretty certain that there is something magical and big about all of this. We concentrate heavily on names. Why? Parents-to-be pour for hours over baby name books. When we get married, women traditionally take on their husband's last name--and it's a big deal. I mean, we "try on" the last names of any number of crushes over the years with little heart doodles on our middle-school notebooks. God changed several people's names in the Bible--Abram to Abraham, Sarai to Sarah, Israel to Jacob (right?!?), Simon to Peter.

We all have nicknames, probably more than one. I usually don't consider myself to have many names. Kathryn Elizabeth Carlson. A mouthful, but nothing compared to Gregory Leighton James Fitzgerald Okimi. ( :) love ya Greg). Today I tried to list them all, and I realized that I actually have a lot. Interestingly, most of them are only used by one person. Here's what I came up with:

• Katie: Everybody calls me Katie, since I intensely dislike the original "Kathryn" on my birth certificate.
• Kathryn: While it's the orignial, I still consider it a nickname, as I don't go by it normally. Jeremy and Frank called me this for several of my high school years, but stopped when they realized that I don't really like it catching on. The reason for this is that I only ever get called that when I'm in trouble. :)
• Katesy: My mom calls me Katesy. She's the only one who gets away with it except for Erik, who overheard her call me that, and from then on used it mercilessly to tease me.
• Katrinka: Perhaps my favorite, this is what my grandpa calls me. I've no idea where it came from, but he's always called me Katrinka, and he's the only one who does, and I love it. I should tell him that one day.
• Kates: My mom and dad call me this. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Oh, and Ben calls me that when he writes me notes at work sometimes. The first couple of times it was wierd because we weren't that good of friends yet and it was such a personal nickname for me. Now it makes me smile and feel loved.
• Katelyn: Andrew called me this once when trying to guess my full name. It stuck, and since he's my "big brother" it's always been special to me. Especially when we're all sitting around watching bull-riding and playing poker and he runs through that and about 10 other "K" names trying to get me to hurry up and play my hand.
• Katie M'Lady: My mom's best friend called me this several years back, and still does in cards and on the phone. It's kinda cute.
• Katie the Horse Lady: A camper nickname that I love.
• Carly Katleson: Another fave, Lance made it up, but Keri and Norse have been the most faithful users of the name. It was throughout highschool and is now a term of affection, and it means a lot to me. Enough to make 2 e-mail addresses out of it, and dozens of usernames.
• Roadie: My cycling teacher calls me "Roadie" faithfully. Almost never uses my name. It cracks me up and makes me feel hard core.

See, lots of names, and all of them bring about different feelings and emotions. All of them are special. And I'm sure there are more.

What's with our fascination with names? I know people who name their stuff. It rubbed off on me. My iPod is Kermit, my bike is Izzie. Keri's snowboard is Sven, her soccer ball is Ernie, Jeremy's jimbae is Sheba, and Mel's car is Farlanika. Seriously--what's in a name?

I've no idea, truthfully. But I'm certain that it's something cosmic. I think that it's got something to do with God and how He wired us to seek connections, with Him and with each other. I don't have any philosophical ending or wise conclusion to make. Only that, as much as I like all those names that people have given me over the years, I bet that God's name for me is even cooler.

I picture it as something like the scene in C.S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew when Aslan's song caused all of Narnia to come to life. He writes,

It was more like what we should call a tune, but it was also far wilder. It made you want to run and jump and climb. It made you want to shout. It made you want to rush at other people and either hug them or fight them.... But what the song did to the two humans was nothing compared to what it was doing to the country.

I think that God calling our name, our real name, will make us feel like that on the inside. That'll be a really good day.