Philippians 2:10-11
Whenever I visit my elderly cousin, she quizzes me about my children’s names.
“Your kids have them African names?” she says.
“Yes,” I reply.![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7QlTUs-V6QVauMzqECfUAQWUYcZsEj70gaRlegypZ5y1-lcNpBJSS8pF116svUWb0dkWvIBWveJRAZf28Z3V3KPFB_BecrvA5Vo-uq70v27P-PlY7ab2yehU6cQlZIT1ZjPUD3dfiM1Z/s320/Names+of+Jesus.jpg)
“But they’re American,” says my 92-year old cousin.
“African-American,” I say.
We laugh and I once again explain the meaning of their names and the hope that my husband and I have for them in the names that we have given them.
Whenever I visit my elderly cousin, she quizzes me about my children’s names.
“Your kids have them African names?” she says.
“Yes,” I reply.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7QlTUs-V6QVauMzqECfUAQWUYcZsEj70gaRlegypZ5y1-lcNpBJSS8pF116svUWb0dkWvIBWveJRAZf28Z3V3KPFB_BecrvA5Vo-uq70v27P-PlY7ab2yehU6cQlZIT1ZjPUD3dfiM1Z/s320/Names+of+Jesus.jpg)
“But they’re American,” says my 92-year old cousin.
“African-American,” I say.
We laugh and I once again explain the meaning of their names and the hope that my husband and I have for them in the names that we have given them.