My name is Rebekah.
Rebekah means “Bound.”
This used to puzzle me.
So I set to pondering:
“Bound & Determined”
had a nice ring.
And on occasion,
so did “Bound away.”
Bound away, I’m bound away,
‘Cross the wide Missouri.
But it’s long since that flow has marked
the boundary between the Domestic and the Wild.
Others were even less favorable:
“Bound” as in “Captive.” “Bound” as in “Not free.”
And the embarrassingly comical, crude:
“Bound” as in “Constipated.” Really?
Rebekah. Origin: Hebrew.
So I turned to Hebrew Scripture, appropriately:
“Bind the sacrifice with cords
to the horns of the altar.”
Not just unappealing. Downright
disturbing. I mean, bind and kill me?
I’d rather be running. So
Bound away, I’m bound away…
Yes, I’ll run. Yes, this girl
just wants to have fun.
Yes, I’ll run, damn it!
I really just want
But then —unbidden— other,
older words well up in me:
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love.
And I am bound to utter them — I cannot help it:
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.