Column Post by Lakin Easterling
It’s crazy to think how simple it is to forget the very best things. A warm cup of coffee, steaming, aromatic, the release of your pent-up soul. The comfort of your favorite blanket on an overcast day. Baby’s dancing feet. Kitten stretches. The color orange. Cold air in the sweltering mirage of a summer day. Fuzzy socks peeping out from the top of snow-dripped boots. Clean carpet. The tree outside your bedroom window, softly swaying with the moon, a voiceless lullaby, rolling your eyes closed like waves on the sea. The smile of returning after a long day gathering tender to keep your home, your car, your favorite bread.
Do we realize how blessed we are? To laugh with family, sing with friends, sit and chase and practice yoga, all of it? They are all gifts. Treasures.
Growing up, my name was always a mystery when I met new people. I have been called so many deviants of the name “Lakin” that I’ve thought of making a book about it. I hated it when I was younger, and I used to wish I was someone simpler, easier to spell, like Anna or Sarah. Something my friends could pronounce.
There’s always a meaning, or maybe several, to a name. They have books written for what your name says about your personality, books consisting of lists of names for you to search through for a baby, and there are even multiple pages on Google about the meanings of names. When I was little, my mother told me “Lakin” meant consecrated to God. I belonged to him, in a holy way, like communion, irrevocably belonging to the purpose of Him Who made me.
Later on in life, whether a new meaning was added or discovered, or if it was found that my name meant something entirely different in another language, I learned that I was also radiant. Radiant like the rays of the sun, vivid and bright, or like the soft lover’s glow of the moon. I believed this to be fitting, especially after marriage, as my husband’s name is Luke, which means bringer of light. {Now is probably a good time for me to mention I don’t believe in coincidences. Perhaps rather a symphony of twining notes?}
More recently, I searched the meaning of my name on the internet, and discovered that it also means found treasure. I am the woman’s coin, the prodigal son, the stray sheep. I am forever lost and being found again.
“It is God’s privilege to conceal things and the king’s privilege to discover them.” ~Proverbs 25:2, NLT
Today, I see this name differently. I am found, but I also find the treasure. Buried in those every day moments, in the eyelashes of my daughter, in encouraging talks with friends, I have coins upon coins and stores upon stores of wool. I have been given the ability to seek and find. This is a radiant and holy thing.
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P.S. We’d love to know your thoughts, so please be sure to comment below. Each of our commenters will be entered in a drawing for our current FREE book giveaway, Mothers & Daughters: Mending a Strained Relationship by author Teena Stewart.
Lakin Easterling is a wife, mother, writer, and avid reader. She spends her days chasing her toddler, Belle, and conversing with the elderly who are afflicted by Alzheimer’s disease or Dementia. She loves surprise coffee dates with her husband Luke, texting novels to her best friend, Laura Hyers, and being a college student. She dreams about being brave enough to get a tattoo, and believes in the healing power of a good cup of coffee. Her favorite nail polish is Sail Away by Milani. She blogs at http://threadingsymphonies.wordpress.com.
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