What's in my Name?

I didn't have to linger long

before he picked me up

and put me in his lap.

When he stares at me I feels small:
I am a grain of sand looking out to the Atlantic
I am a lit match shining my brightest against the Pleiades

I am a lamb lost in the grandeur of the Tetons.

He smiled.
“I have a question.”
He knows when I have questions,

He always knows when I have questions.
He knows I always have questions.

“What does my name mean?

The baby books tell me it is Greek

and websites tell me that it means healer,

but I am neither;

What's my real name? My new one?

The one you made just for me, gave me,

that says you know me,

have known me, and will know me.

The name that says you know my character,

that you created and then changed me.
I want to know it as it's called again.

“You once named a deceitful man Israel because he wrestled with you,
and a mighty nation and King rose from it.
And You changed the names of a whore's children

and intimately loved them as 'pitied' and 'my people.'
Finally you renamed a righteous and confident man 'small'

and now the world reads his letters.

Will you use me? What is my new name?
I want to know it as it's called again

because I know that you've corrected it.”