When our kids tease each other about which one is the best, or best-loved, our daughter Libby will often play her trump card: she lays proud claim to being the only one of our children I specifically prayed and asked the Lord for. And she is right. A little background is due here:

Our first child, Paul, was born when Cheryl & I were at Southwestern Seminary, at the beginning of what we came to call our “dark year.” It wasn’t his fault, of course, but times were really hard for us that first year of his life, as I worked part-time jobs waiting to be called to our first church. (We spent some years making it up to him, however!) Two years later, now serving at our first full-time church and in much brighter days, David came along. His birth was the easiest of the four kids. (Cheryl said it was because God knew he was going to be harder on us in every other way!) So here we had these two preschool boys. I was beginning to change my ideas regarding the size of our family. I had initially thought that we should have about a dozen kids – our own football team! When Paul became a preschooler, I thought we might not want THAT many; maybe 6-8. Then when David came along, I suddenly thought that 3 or 4 would be plenty! But later that year, I had a special request: I prayed that the Lord would send us another child, and I specifically asked Him to give us a girl. I don’t know why; someone who could plumb the depths of my heart might divine the reasons for it, but I will be content to say that it is just the request that God placed on my heart. I had not asked like that before or since, but I did on this occasion. Some months later – actually longer than I had expected; it seems the Lord made me wait, and keep asking, which I did – we were expecting again. Then on September 19^th, 1989, God answered my prayer, and gave me just what I asked for: a daughter, Elizabeth Erin.

Cheryl & I had discussed at great lengths what we might name this child if she was a girl. We both liked Bible names for the kids, as they carry connotations of godly qualities with them. We talked about “Rachel”, or “Sarah”. We both like the name “Kate” (I found out later from my mom that we had a dog named Kate when I was a preschooler. Mom said we would shout at her: “Shu’p Kate!” Don’t guess we’d have wanted to do that with the baby …). We came very close to naming her “Charis”, the Greek word for “grace” (I jokingly said we could give her the middle name “matic”!). But the name we settled on was “Elizabeth”, the godly mother of John the Baptist. Another big factor in our choice of that name was our respect for Elisabeth Eliot, although we decided to drop the potentially troublesome alternate spelling. The middle name came from my oldest sister, Erin. Erin & I were born just over a year apart, and we have always been close. Plus she and Cheryl were friends before Cheryl & I ever began to date, so “Erin” for the middle name it was. The new baby girl would be “Elizabeth Erin Thomas”!

Now the question was: what would we “really” call her? We were realistic enough to know that most people, including ourselves, would probably NOT call her “Elizabeth.” There would be nicknames. And actually, the variety of nicknames that can be derived from “Elizabeth” was a factor in our selection of that name. One can do all kinds of fun things with it: Lizzy, Liz, Eliza, Beth, Bess, on and on. We didn’t know in advance just what the preferred nickname would be, but that there would be one was never really much in question. (I wasn’t conscious of it then, but over the years I have learned that when I have a special fondness for someone, I will give them a nickname. Upon reflection, I think it is a subconscious way of making that person “yours”; in a sense “naming” them, like Adam did Eve.) But as to what that nickname would be for this girl child, we were willing to let time and experience tell. And it did.

When Libby was born that September day in “Oklahoma City itself” (for that inside joke, you have to see the old Cary Grant movie “The Awful Truth”. You really should see it anyway!), Aunt Erin brought Paul & David up to the hospital to see Libby for the first time. As it turned out, they would be the ones who gave Libby her name, for at their young ages, they could not say “Elizabeth.” The best try at it was something akin to “Libbez”. So we considered her dubbed. She became “Libs”, and then “Libby”, or “Lib” for short. Most everyone who knows her today calls her “Libby”. “Elizabeth” is primarily used by college professors who are not acquainted with her when they call roll in class! To those who know and love her, she is Libby.

Well, I might amend that somewhat. I mentioned my penchant for giving little “love names”, as Cheryl calls them. I must have given Libby dozens of them! When she was little-bitty, I called her “Monkey Mind”, because of her sometimes nonsensical “reasonings.” But in more recent years, one of my favorites has been “Lib-munk”, with a few occasional variations. After I had used “Lib-munk” for some time, she began to “retaliate” and call me “Dad-munk”, and then we went through “Lib-punk” and “Dad-punk”. Not long ago she may have fired the final salvo in the war, however, when I called her “Lib-punk” and she said, “What, Dad-chunk?!” As I had put on a few pounds over the winter, I winced and said, “Ouch!” Checkmate!

But in just about a week now, on Saturday, May 14^th, I am going to escort Libby down the aisle, and give her away. (Wow, I am tearing up even as I type this!) In a way, it is hard to imagine that the little baby we welcomed into the world that September day is being married. She who had the ear-piercing screech of a wail that I dubbed her “eagle cry.” The little preschooler who was so proud of her belly that she would walk around sticking it out as far as she could for all to see! My little tanned, prissy, smiling Daddy’s girl who loved being Belle from “Beauty and the Beast”. The annoying little sister, who, when angry with her brother one day, but couldn’t find the words, said, “You … you … donget!” We didn’t know what a “donget” was, but we were pretty sure it was something bad! I have always said that Libby’s preschool years were my favorites of hers, but I think now I have changed my mind. I am pretty sure that these most recent are her best years yet. She is serious in her walk with the Lord; she surrendered to the ministry; she earned a top scholarship and went to Louisiana College – and now she has met and is marrying a young man who is everything we could have asked for. In fact, as we’ve been praying in anticipation of him all these years, he absolutely is! We are grateful to God for Joshua Breland. I have seen how he loves Libby – not just a “gushy” love, but a Biblical love, “patient, kind” and more. I have seen him talk to Libby tenderly and patiently when I had wanted to turn her back over on my knee like she was a preschooler again! Watching I Corinthians 13 in action in such a way, I knew that Josh loved Libby as much, and if possible, even more than I did. And so, it is with a very full and grateful heart that I will walk my Libby down the aisle next week, and give her to the man who will change her name. At the end of the ceremony — assuming I hold my composure — I will announce: “Ladies & Gentlemen, I present to you Mr. & Mrs. Joshua Breland.” But … it is only her last name that is being changed. She will always be my Libby. Until I come up with yet another love name, that is …