He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes I will give some of the hidden manna to eat. And I will give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name written which no one knows except him who receives it.
When we become children of God all things are made new. The Word of God says that we are new creatures, that we are born again of the water and the Spirit and that we will even have a new name. God often changes their name to those He has called and separated for Him. Thus, Abram became Abraham, Sarai in Sarah, Jacob in Israel, Simon in Peter and Saul of Tarsus in Paul. Revelation 2:17 says to you, To him who overcomes I will give some of the hidden manna to eat. And I will give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name written which no one knows except him who receives it.
Not everyone likes the name his parents gave him, I am one of them. My mother used the Bristol Almanac to choose the names of her children. The day I was born, the famous almanac bore the names of three “saints”: Genaro, Canute and Marta. Since I was not born a woman, my mother had to choose between the two male names, which, in my opinion, were not so beautiful. She chose the first one, at least she protected me from making jokes in the school like saying Canute becoming grosser.
In addition to the saint of the day of birth, my mother had a name that pleased to put her children. Before I was born, she had read a novel where the protagonist was called Silfrido and said to herself that she liked that name for a child of her. I was the first of her sons; but she preferred to put me by the middle name Antonio and leave the name of the novel for my younger brother. During our first years, my mother called my brother and me for our second names and they knew us all over the neighborhood: Antonio and Silfrido.
When I entered school, my teachers and classmates began calling me by my first name. As many of my classmates came to pick me up at my house and asked for me using my first name, everyone in the neighborhood also changed to call me that, including my own mother. Not so with my brother, who very few know that his first name is Martin. So for most of my first 30 years of life, I had to put up with the name taken from the Bristol Almanac, which I honestly hated.
When I left my country, at age 30, a friend in Puerto Rico started calling me Tony, a derivative of Antonio, my middle name. The new name I liked and since then, everywhere I’ve gone, that’s what they call me. For the Americans, Tony is a name that they can pronounce correctly, contrary to what happens to my first name. So now I enjoy a new name, which is to my liking.
It does not matter that your story is like mine or if you enjoy the name that your parents gave you. When the Lord returns, He has promised the following to the one who overcomes: I will give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name written which no one knows except him who receives it. At this moment I do not know what my new name will be, the time has not yet come when that happens; but I am sure that the new name we will have will be more beautiful than the one we were given at birth and will have great significance for the Lord. God bless you.