I’ve never liked my birth name – Ligia.

No matter how hard I looked, I could never find my name on personalized pencils or toothbrushes. Ms. Molly from Romper Room always kept me waiting, never calling my name while looking into that silly mirror. My name also sounded much like my father’s, which felt like a punishment. The sound of my name has triggered so many painful memories and hurtful feelings. There was only one tone in which I ever heard it said: loud and demeaning.

My name was also too complicated to pronounce. Correcting people’s mispronunciations is uncomfortable for me. As a Latina, I was raised to believe that children should be seen and not heard, so correcting anyone, especially those older than myself, was never an option.

Over the years, I have experimented with different names, hoping to find one that would suit me — one that would help me fit in while still highlighting aspects of myself that I was hesitant to celebrate. After much searching, and at the suggestion of a resume workshop facilitator who advised me that my last name was “Hispanic enough” but my first name was too complicated for potential employers, I decided to adopt the name Leah. The facilitator made a valid point: people might avoid calling me for interviews because, as she put it, “Who wants to sound stupid on the phone?” So Leah stuck!

I have read verses like John 10:3 (CSB): “The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”

I have also come across Isaiah 43:1:

“Now this is what the Lord says—
the one who created you, Jacob,
and the one who formed you, Israel—
‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name; you are mine.’“

But I questioned whether I truly believe that God cares enough about something as seemingly insignificant as a name. After all, there are likely more important matters to Him in the grand scheme of life, right?

On a podcast, I was once asked if I knew the meaning of my name, Ligia. It struck me that I had never looked it up before. The question caught me off guard, so I quickly turned to Google to find the meaning. As I read, tears began streaming down my face. Emotion overwhelmed me. 

All I could utter was, “He knows me; He knows me by name.” 

The name I had long avoided embracing unveiled the truth about who God created me to be.

Ligia means “clear-voiced” or “sweet loudness.”

The gifts and talents He placed within me, along with the vibrant tone of my voice, were never insignificant. And though those entrusted to love and care for me may have overlooked or spoken against my worth, my heavenly Father never missed a beat.

He always knew me.

I had often associated my name with negativity, but at that moment on the podcast, I realized it had a purpose, starting from the moment I drew my first breath. Despite my hurts, sins, failures, and shortcomings, God chose me. And He chooses you, too, friend!

While the enemy may call us by our sins, God calls us by our names — not just our earthly names, but names that He has given us: Chosen, Loved, Seen, Forgiven, Whole, and many more. He created us in His likeness, redeemed us, and called us by name as His children.

I’m not sure what names or labels you may have carried throughout your life — perhaps not a replacement name like Leah, but terms such as rejected, broken, abandoned, alone, unloved, or lost. These are just some of the identities the enemy would have us believe are better alternatives to the one God has already given us: daughter.

I pray that you will embrace and live out your God-given name today and walk in authority as His daughter.

Regardless of what the world calls you, remember that you are His.

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