After living in Malawi for some time, you realize that everyone is obsessed with their name. Not because of the spelling or how beautiful it sounds, but because of the meaning and identity found in the name. As a very Christian country, this identity and meaning typically points back to God. Names like “Mayamiko” meaning “Praise,” “Tadala” meaning “We have been blessed” or “Alinafe” meaning “He is with us.” My coworker, Thandy, throws out the meaning of his name every chance he gets! He usually says something like, “My name is Thandizo which means helper. I don’t work at the hospital for the job, but for the kids and I feel it is my purpose to live out my name.” In this culture, the meaning of your name commonly becomes your life purpose.
I remember being a little girl and looking up the meaning of my name on the internet, with hope that it matched exactly who I felt I was at the time and if not, something even cooler. I quickly realized it didn’t relate to me at all and that’s how it was for most people. You then ask your parents why your name became your name and you get something back like, “Oh, I just loved that name since I was a little kid” or “I knew an inspiring person with that name.” Sometimes it’s even, “Yeah, that was the only name your father and I could agree on,” but rarely is it ever, “Your name means servant of God and I knew that was your purpose.”
We live in a world where we are constantly searching for our identity, purpose and deep meaning in our lives, but hardly ever do our names even intend to mirror that. It’s not our fault, nor is it our parents. Our world gives power to external beauty, overriding internal fullness. Unless you’re Pheobe Buffay, you’re probably not going to be changing your name just because you can, but you are able to rebirth the meaning of your name and dive deeper into the purpose and mission God has specifically for your life.
My name is Alexis. My friends call me Lexi, my family calls me Lex and Malawians usually call me Lexah or Legacy. Alexis means “Defender and protector of mankind.” Growing up, I never felt like I was even in the same world as mankind. I was a loner, an outcast, invisible and living in a spiritual bubble filled with God’s love that the people around me took no interest in. I was such a holy misfit that I couldn’t see myself defending mankind; I didn’t even know how to associate “normally” with mankind.
On August 9th, 2018, my first week living in Malawi, I met a little girl named Harriet. Harriet was an orphan girl; ill, forgotten, abandoned, unloved, broken, wounded and with no direction or hope. She had been hit by a car in 2016, leaving her with a broken foot and a small wound. In and out of the hospital for two years, experiencing many medical complications and failed procedures, Harriet is still unable to walk properly and now has three massive wounds, a foot that healed incorrectly and a knee contracture.
Our instant friendship grew into “familyship.” I suddenly became her caretaker, her provider, her mentor, her guardian and her home. I made a promise I would fight for her, every day in all ways; to be her advocate, her voice when she had none, her companion when she was alone, her rock when her strength was gone and to always lead her back to the heart of God.
It had been years since I had looked up the definition of my name and I had completely forgotten all about it. Living in the United States, it didn’t really matter. But now, living in Malawi and meeting Harriet gave my name deeper meaning. “Defender and protector of mankind” – I had begun living out my name without even realizing it. The purpose rooted in my name’s definition may not have been for all of mankind, but for a little African, brown-eyed, afro-tastic girl! The name gifted to me by my parents at birth, God now began to use for His purpose.
Today, we leave for the United States to finish the fight Christ has already won and will continue to win over and over again in each of our lives. Harriet and I will be traveling to Shriners Hospital for Children in Texas to heal the wounds, restore the bones and bring peace and hope to the mind. It’s been one of the hardest battles and most patient waits I’ve ever experienced. Full of fear, frustration and suffering, but we have fought together. We have laughed together. We have cried together. We have so much faith and expectation in God’s miracle-working power. Please keep us in your prayers, that God’s will be done, His way.