As the oldest grandson on both sides, a few things came with that. One was gettin’ to figure out what to call my parents’ parents. The running joke with Pappeye was that since I couldn’t say my “f’s” and always liked my “pinch pies,” he was just lucky he wasn’t named Faffeye.

Speakin’ of names — on my dad’s side, mine came from his. You’re lookin’ at a fourth. “C4,” Mammaw Ruth called me. Dad was the 3rd. Papa was a Jr. His grandpa was the OG Cecil of the bunch.

Cecil wasn’t all that common when I showed up. Back when Papa was a keen whippersnapper — fightin’ Indians in the Civil War with Davy Crockett at the Alamo, or so he told my 7 year old self, who got to have a fun parent teacher conference where tall tales were discussed — he started goin’ by Buddy so as not to be confused with his dad, Cecil.

Confused yet? Nope. Lemme help.

When his son, my dad, was born, Papa became Big Buddy. Dad became Little Buddy. So when I was born… yup. Baby Buddy. When I got older: Bud. So no one would be confused, of course.

Why do we do this? Other than keepin’ Tylenol in business.

Someone calling me by my given name, Cecil, knows of me. Someone that calls me by a name they’ve given me KNOWS me.

In the wilderness Jacob wrestles all night. From that point forward we know him as Israel. God called him by name that night.

Jesus was already the Christ — from the beginning. But the day Simon saw Him for that, Jesus knew Simon was ready to start becomin’ the rock. To become Peter.

Just a thought from a very grateful 4th, forever grateful for every name he’s been given by folks who took the time to bestow one.

Bible Verses

Genesis 32:22-32 / Matthew 16:13-19

Questions

Who’s given you a nickname over the years ??? Who have you  taken the time and love to name as your own over the years ???