Okay, so you’ll think I’m insane now, but I went and took a photo of the “No Parking” sign to demonstrate that I was legally parked when I received my ticket yesterday. I’m posting it here for you to see, too—if there’s a Kentucky state law that you’re aware of that would prohibit me parking here, even when the sign says I can, be sure to let me know. Notice where the arrow points!!! BTW, the sign below that is for a special event tomorrow, not yesterday!

Today is exactly 30 days from the big event… no, not the Leadership Event, for all those of you in a panic because you haven’t registered (although you need to register soon!). The Bogdan and I get married exactly one month from today, on May 20. And as the day gets closer, more people are asking the obvious: “Are you going to change your name?”

The answer? Yes, although I’m keeping the “Rice,” too. Perhaps it is my compromise between hard-core idealism and pragmatic considerations, perhaps it is just me caving into the status quo. Or maybe I’ve ceased to be able to speak in any language other than PresbyLand acronyms, because I find KARB—Kelsey Anne Rice Bogdan—quite catchy. Some European royals have up to six names. What’s wrong with me having four?

The name change dilemma, however, strikes me as emblematic of the larger struggles of our generation. Choice—in the workplace, in the home, with ourselves—surrounds us, but guilt accompanies each of those choices. Had I not changed my name, I would have inevitably wondered whether I had really committed to this new life, or whether I was stubbornly clinging to the past. I would have felt like David and I were completely separate entities, loosely joined for tax purposes. And when we had children, assuming they took David’s last name, where would that leave me in the family?

Guilt and hurt would have been there, too, when others assumed that I was a “femi-Nazi” and “anti-family” because I didn’t change my name. Not to mention all those who would have insisted on calling me “Kelsey Bogdan,” regardless of my wishes.

On the other hand, though, are those who insist that my “choice” is really no choice at all, that I’m caving in to societal pressures to conform to traditional gender expectations. And that hurts, too, because part of me wonders if they’re right—if by automatically taking David’s last name without asking David why he doesn’t take mine or join ours together, I’m talking the women’s equality talk without walking the walk.

Of course, if we did become the Rice-Bogdans, what would our children do when they married? Have three hyphenated names? Four names? Make up a new name? Justice-oriented for sure, but a bit impractical.

At the same time, the choice in names does indicate progress for women. There is a certain power in names and naming—that’s why, when Moses asks God what to say to the Israelites if they ask for God’s name, God says only, “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14). God resists being named by humans, and reserves the right to label the self. 100 years ago, I really wouldn’t have had any choice in what to call myself if I married. Today, I choose to be KARB. David, of course, had input into that, but I ultimately made the decision.

God calls us to make certain choices, to stand up for our beliefs. I honestly didn’t feel God calling me to remain KAR. I did feel God, however, calling me to make sure that the first names of both husband and wife were listed on my wedding invitations, which goes against social convention. I felt God calling me to write today about what can be something of a touchy issue.

I know many strong, empowered women who are known by both their maiden and married names, like I plan to be. I also know many who are known only by their married names, and others who kept their name. The identity they have chosen for themselves has not ultimately hindered their commitments to women, or their contributions to the coming realm of God.

So for all these years, I’ve been known as a Rice. And you know what rice is? A KARB! Ha ha!

“God also said to Moses, ‘Thus you shall say to the Israelites, “The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Issac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you”: This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.’” --Exodus 3:15

Kelsey