I like my name. There’s never been a time when I didn’t like my name — except when it’s shortened to Vicky, or Tori, which often happens when I first meet people. If we’re meeting for the first time I’ll kindly let you know I’ve always gone by,“Victoria” and you can call me “V” if you’re the nickname-type. There are only two other variations of my name that I’ve accepted in my 27 years on this earth; my family who calls me, Toria, and my Roommates who chose the prestigious, Tortar. But these last two are kind of club-members-only options. Sorry.
In my travels across continents my name has generally served me well. Victoria, is pretty common and most people can pronounce it. Sometimes after I share who I am with someone I’ll even get a, “Wow, that is a beautiful name. Your parents chose well.” Of course, there’s always the funny guy who asks, “What’s your secret?” Either way, people tend to have a handle on, Victoria.
But here in Cambodia my name’s not so easy for the natives.
When I introduce myself I speak slowly, “Hello! I am Vic-tor-ia.” I’ll say with an encouraging smile. I tend to receive blank stares in return so I’ll try again, “Vick-tore-ee-ah,” and usually follow it up with something about how it is a long name to pronounce so don’t feel bad. Cambodian’s are kind though, and they will always try again. Without fail somewhere in this process, my name has consistently transformed into, “OH, Victor-rear. Victor-rear!”
Yeah, Victor’s-Rear, as in some guy’s butt.
I just smile and say, “Jah,” the Khmer for yes.
That’s how it happened with our Khmer staff here at the guesthouse. I was “Victor’s Rear” for awhile when I first arrived in March. But I’m happy to say within the last 6 weeks my name has transformed yet again, and now they call me, Victory. And Victory is how I now introduce myself to new Khmer friends. At first calling myself Victory felt weird — like maybe I was a little over-confident, you know? But now I’m claiming it and embracing it with gratefulness.
I’ve been learning about the weight names carry. These days we tend to choose names for our kids because they all start with “J” or because they sound nice paired with our last name, or because we’re betting no one else in the world is gonna name their kid, “Apple,” (and we’re right…).
But especially in ancient Middle-Eastern cultures, your name meant something. Names during Bible times were long-prayed over, and chosen with great intentionality. Your name was your essence, and your destiny. Your name was packed with meaning and everyone in your community knew what that meaning was.
There’s a story in the beginning of Genesis about two brothers; Cain and Abel. Rabbis will teach that in the Hebrew Cain’s name means, “Acquired.” His mother chose it because she recognized it was with the help of God that she acquired her son. Cain bore the destiny of acquiring in his namesake.
The Rabbis will go on to teach that the destiny of a name can be lived into positively or negatively. If Cain chose positively, he would live his life remembering that it was always with the help of the Lord that he was given what he had. He would remember that since the very beginning of his life he has had the help of God on his side. But, unfortunately, Cain chose to live into his name negatively. Caine forgot the truth to his name and began to live from a place of fear—fear that maybe he couldn’t produce enough for God, maybe what He had (what God had given him) was not enough. Cain forgot who he was. He lost trust in the truth of His name and the story God had been writing for him since the beginning.
I’ve been thinking about this story of Cain in light of my new name,Victory. At first, it felt like my Cambodian friends were trying to rename me—like my real name wasn’t good enough. But, the root meaning of Victoria actually is, Victory.
My Cambodian brothers and sisters haven’t renamed me. They’ve called me back to my true name.
I have a friend here called Semy, and every time he sees me he does repeated breakfast-club-style fist-pumps into the air. Without words he calls me Victory. Without knowing it, Semy reminds me that with Jesus I’ve already won; it’s in my namesake.
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?…No in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:31-39)
