The Family Name

 

The Family Name

     Call it colloquial.  Old fashioned?  Well, a good name is to be better gained than riches clothes in scarlet.  Wisdom is known by her children.  Then surely the tag by which we are assumed means most.

     Cory Del Cvrk.  I had never known my surname would matter much.  My father, with all due respect, regarded it as a good ice breaker.  “And how do you pronounce that?”  I carried it on further.  Lifting it from the scum of the aquarium, her mother and I sacrificed in pulling the yoke where it needed to be.  “Her mother?”  Laura Anne Lamb grabbed hold.  She voluntarily fettered the lock of a gold ring about her finger.  “I do” and it was done.  The oath, consummated with seven children on the string, bolstered a new chapter to Ancestry.com.

     I write from experience.  They go forth from me.  As the ancients would say, fruit of my loins.  But I do not shrink away from this truth.  As arrows from a quiver extracted, hitting their mark then marshalled to the bow of Another to be shot again.  Have they discouraged me?  No.  On the contrary, a mighty name rides on their shoulders as the triumphant quarterback after the championship game.

     “You are a Cvrk.  Make us proud!”  I told my daughter this morning as she headed out the door to her waitressing job.  “All work is honorable,” saith the Lord.  No little task escapes the Father’s eye.  We launch out in cooperation with Him and He says, “Make us proud!”

     How I wished we understood His heart towards His dear children.  This world pronounces failure as we continually measure ourselves against their rule.  We cannot hurdle their gold in the sky.  A shiny bar raised beyond belief calls for sacrifice.  Abortion is nothing new as those chasing the meteor sacrifice all to grasp the burning ball.  As moths to flame, in the end wings singed pollute the noses of subsequent generations telling that grandpa was a workaholic.

     Brothers and sisters, we carry along with us something more.  Balancing work and family, we sometimes forego the promotion knowing blood out the family door sill sickens the stomach of dad returned home.  Headlights into an empty garage drives a man mad.  Where are the children’s bikes?  They are not in their intended places.  Divorce tells of a desert relationship.  Long since dry, many seasons of renewal missed and Dad’s teeth grind as he tries to sleep.

     Take up your name!  Know they have marched.  Those before you have lifted hands to get you where you are.  In a family nose dive? Then pull up on the stick and get that sucker to a better attitude of alignment.  Joshua knew resistance and a grasping onto the Lord’s will.  A warrior he walked about what was promised.

     We children have been given a land.  It is up to us to clear it and make it profitable.  A back forty?  Well, some have been given a thousand acres and cattle in the yard.  Whatever the inheritance, we sustain and we increase.

     It’s not about money.  What will they say when we have left them?  “There goes a good man.  She contributed to want of the needy.  That child was respectful.”  The banner goes on.  In Christ, it can go all the way back to the cross.  We point.  We extol.  We declare there is a Name above every name, and we are proud to bear it upon on shoulders.

      The family name ties us into blood.  God’s name ties us strongly to His action of love.  “Little Christs” as we are called.  He sees us out the door everyday saying, “Make us proud!”