I never really thought about my name much when I was younger.  I grew up as Jennifer McEwen (mik-you-in). McEwen was a difficult last name.  Nobody knew how to say it or spell it.  I said it and spelled it out loud, a million times! When I was little, my family called me Jenny.  My teachers and friends called me Jennifer.  I sometimes made up a name it would be fun to have, like Rose. When I was 11, I decided to name one of my daughter’s Rose. (I never did, though.)

When I got married, as a young adult, I happily took my husband’s last name.  To me it meant becoming one—united—starting a new family unit. Plus, it meant I wouldn’t have to say and spell my last name over and over anymore; everybody can pronounce Barker.  I liked having that new name, and I loved my husband’s parents and siblings, increasing my extended family.  It was a little weird at first, especially at church, where people called me “Sister Barker.” Although I love my mother-in-law dearly, I didn’t want to be called the same name.  Many years later, I chose “Gran” as my grandma name, because “Grandma Barker” was my mother-in-law, not me.

My children had to deal with the typical juvenile name-calling and teasing about barking dogs and such (does anybody escape that?), but Barker is pretty mild in that regard. Year after year our family grew…and grew, until there were 7 Barker kids.  We worked hard, doing the best we could to establish a Christ-Centered home, including sleepy family scripture study before early morning seminary, family prayer, (largely uncivilized) family home evenings, chaotic dinner together every night around the table, and family traditions.  One tradition, still continued today, was our holiday talent show, usually performed after Thanksgiving dinner.  We always had varying musical talents, including singing, piano, violin, ukulele and guitar, but we’ve also enjoyed, throughout the years, a variety of other talents such as Lego creations, magic tricks, artwork and video presentations, dancing, sign language, and even speedy Rubik’s Cube solving.  We were the Barker Family, with a subset of Barker kids who were intelligent, talented, and beautiful as a group and in their own individual ways.  Also tall! They looked and acted like siblings and had an identity and belonging as part of the Barker family, especially in our church family, where they all grew up and were loved by many. With nine of us, we filed in to church together each week and took up one whole pew.  We shared our testimonies and helped each other stay strong in our faith.  Time has dulled the frustration of the drama, fighting, and mutiny that occurred on Sunday mornings, and sharpened the sweetness of those memories.  Now, I sit in church each week with my youngest daughter, grateful that she is with me for a few more years, and more than a little sad that my row is no longer filled with a small army of funny, annoying, wonderful little children. 

After my divorce, I struggled with my identity, my name.  Who am I now? I had been Jennifer Barker for 30 years—10 years longer than I had been Jennifer McEwen.  I didn’t feel like either of those people anymore. My closest connection to the name Barker had been severed, and it felt like I had been cut adrift.  For a time, I considered changing my name back to McEwen.  My associations with that name were fond ones; my loving dad, who died only a few years ago, and my mom and sisters, who have been there my whole life and seen me through these rough post-divorce years, are all part of my McEwen identity. Changing a name, however, isn’t quick and easy, and I was hesitant about having a last name differing from that of my children.

One afternoon, I was driving home from church with my daughter. She was filling out a questionnaire-type form, for an activity in her church youth group, about what made her unique.  It was anonymous, and the other kids were supposed to figure out who each form described. There were questions about favorite foods and movies and such. One question asked, “What’s your claim to fame?”  She and I humorously discussed possible responses, for a couple of minutes, and then she said, “I would say, ‘I am a Barker kid,’ but then everyone would know who it was.”  We chuckled about that, but after she went inside, I sat in the car for a few minutes thinking about what she had said.  Yes, she was a Barker kid.  It was part of her identity and her “claim to fame.” Tears came to my eyes. I was incredibly grateful she knew what it meant to be a Barker kid, that she felt that connection. Some of my daughters are married, and no longer have Barker as their last name, but they will always be one of the Barker kids. It occurred to me then, that I am also a Barker.  I’m happily part of that crazy, wonderful, talented group; I still belong to them and to that name.

The name of the church I belong to has always been The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, since it was first organized in 1830, by Joseph Smith Jr., a prophet, called of God to restore Christ’s original church in the latter-days. Many people don’t know that name for Christ’s church.  Some know it as the “Mormon Church,” because a book of scripture we believe in was abridged by, and named after, Mormon, an ancient prophet. Others know it as the “LDS” Church, which stands for Latter-Day Saints.

Jesus Christ is central to the church. The Prophet Joseph Smith declared,

“The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.” 

Russel M. Nelson, the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and a prophet of God, said, recently in a General Conference,

“Jesus Christ directed us to call the Church by His name because it is His Church, filled with His power.”

Admittedly, it’s a long name for a church, however, it’s my blessing to use it, sharing with others that I believe in Jesus Christ and follow Him. 

Both my last name, and the name of my church, are part of my eternal identity.  I’m thankful and comforted knowing that I belong to an amazing family, here on earth, and to an eternal family in Heaven.