I’m often asked how to pronounce my name or where my mother came up with it—so here’s my story.
When my mother found out that she was going to have a third child, she was determined it was not going to be girl. It’s not that my mother has anything against girls. She doesn’t. What she has difficulty with are strong-willed children. She much prefers compliant ones. Don’t we all? My mother had one of each—a strong-willed girl and a compliant boy. So when the doctor announced her third pregnancy, only a boy would do.
While either gender can have a strong personality, my mother still prepared for a boy. When it came to picking out clothes, she purchased boys clothes. When picking out names, she picked out only boys names—two to be exact—Richard Todd and Micah Todd. Yet, in all her determination to have a boy, I was born a girl. What did my mother do? She named me, Micah Todd.
Acknowledging my gender, she changed the spelling of my name to M-i-c-c-a. But I’ve always wondered if subconsciously she gave me a boy’s name in hopes that I’d act like one. If so, that plan didn’t work in her favor either. I’m a true girly-girl with a mixture of both my sister and brother’s personalities.
I struggled growing up with a boy’s name. At the start of every new school year, the teacher naturally assumed I was a boy according to my name. This taught me that my name gave false testimony to who I was. Many times I’ve considered changing it. Then, one day I was approached by a woman who had been sitting in the audience as I spoke.
“Your name fits you.” She said.
“What?” I almost couldn’t believe my ears!
“Yes” she continued. “You’re a speaker of the Word. That makes you a prophet—just like the prophet Micah in the bible.”
My mouth hung open for the longest time. I tried to respond to her commit, but I was thinking about where my name originated from. It wasn’t the bible! My mother had gotten the name from one of the characters in an old western sitcom called, “The Raffle Men.” I was named after the Sherriff for heaven’s sake!
As I pondered the woman’s observation, I realized that she was right. Regardless where my name came from, it fits my life’s purpose—to speak God’s truths. That does describe the job of a prophet. My name didn’t give false evidence of who I am…it defined it.
I’m amazed at how my children’s names fit them, too. Maybe you’ve also discovered that your name fits the real you, as well! If not, that’s okay. When Christ returns you’ll be given a new name! Like many that lived between the pages of the bible, Jesus changed their name to fit the person He created them to be. In heaven, God has a new name for you…one that fits you to a tee.