So, just as with Sam, the Lord has given us a name for this new baby boy. And in a way only the Lord can do. Cause He’s cool like that.
And just to catch those of you who may not know up (but why would there be anyone who doesn’t know reading this??) I’m pregnant again. 20 weeks, in fact. Crazy. And I call him baby #2, but he’s really baby #3. Unless you believe (like we tend to most of the time) that Sam was perfected and given back to us. Then he’s baby #2, or 2 & 1/2, or 3. I don’t know. But for the sake of this side of Heaven, he will be referred to as baby #2. And he is a HE! A little brother. I love that. I admit the thought of a girl was so lovely, but also the thought of being surrounded by boys (and boys adore their mommas) is quite lovely in its own right. Any way, back to the point.
Like most every girl, I have a secret (and sometimes not so secret) baby name list. And my boy list is quite short, but even so, it has NEVER included baby #2’s name. It started on a morning I was watching a dvr’d first episode of The Bible series that came on the weeks before Easter. So good, right? And I’m not one to sit and reflect on Old Testament stories, except maybe a few with Daniel and Esther and David perhaps, but on this morning as Sam was napping and I was stuffing my face with who knows what and watching the first Bible episode, ALL I could think about was when was Joshua coming? Let me see Joshua! Where is Joshua? I’m over Moses, give me Joshua! Let’s go make some walls fall down!
And then, the first look of Joshua as a young believer following Moses, I about died. Which is all very weird, but I went with it. That name hung heavy on me all day (and for weeks later). It was like stuck in the back of my throat, like I couldn’t speak without mentioning it. So of course, when Johnny came home that night, I asked him what he thought about the name Joshua. He said something perfect and biblical as he would, and how he loved it, and he asked me if I was thinking of baby names. Of course I said no! I couldn’t name my kid that, I have other names for that business, but isn’t it a name? Don’t you just go Ugh! Now THAT is a name. HE was a warrior. But so pure I feel like. What is it about Joshua, Johnny??
Two weeks later, I find out I’m pregnant.
The name, still lays heavy on me, but I try to shrug it off and fall back in love with one of my three other names that are seemingly perfect. Then, a few weeks later, this friend from church calls me out of the blue on a Friday morning. Like, completely out of the blue. I mean, we’re friends, but not phone friends. Maybe we have texted twice in the two years we have known each other. Maybe. But an actual phone call? Crazy. Naturally I think something is wrong and I need to answer even though Sam needs to be put down for a nap. Her first words are, “I don’t know why, but I feel like the Lord wants me to call you and tell you something. ”
(and side note, a few weeks before I miscarried in July 2011, this same woman prayed like crazy over my Johnny at church. I wasn’t there that morning, and she didn’t know why she was praying, obviously none of us did, but that has stuck with me. Now, I KNOW the Lord only speaks to edify and lift up. Sometimes He uses words of correction, but they are NEVER filled with doom and gloom. Still, when she said that, and with me newly pregnant, I almost fell to the floor in fear. I admitted it to her quickly and she very quickly rebuked that thought out of me and continued with her story…)
Yes she knew I was pregnant, I had told her a few weeks earlier. I’m not the kind to hold that secret in any more. Sure I keep it off social media for awhile (a long while with Sam, only waited till we saw that beating heart at 8 weeks with this kiddo) but I figure I need the prayer covering, I need to talk about it. That’s just me. I get the not telling, but I have felt the freedom of sharing, too. And for me, the latter is better. Okay, back to it…
She says, ” Rachel. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to tell you about Nicolette’s (her 3 yr old daughter) new friend Joshua. [my heart SANK] She won’t quit talking about him, she told me he was her friend from church, but I looked and looked last Wednesday night and there was NO Joshua to be found. All teachers confirmed that there has never been a Joshua in the children’s classes. And finally Nicolette told me Joshua was a really little baby. All she will tell me is that he’s a really little baby at church. And honey (did she say honey? I don’t know, I would have), I feel like the Lord is telling me he’s your Joshua. Has He given you this name? Is your baby supposed to be named Joshua?”
Well I just lost it. Through the tears I said Yes! Yes! Yes! It’s MY Joshua. So there you go! I fiddled around with some girl names in between just in case the Lord was only using that confirmation to lift me up through a scary first trimester, but I should have known. That Jesus. He’s cool. He knows my baby. He calls him by his name. And y’all, apparently, that name is Joshua. Joshua Patrick, to be exact.
Joshua; The Lord saves, or He rescues. & Patrick; Noble.
And then, just in time, a friend sent me this email.
Whatever. I have the BEST friends.
MY Joshua. May he be as his name says :)
And in other news, since my last post months ago, I found my way back to the living around January-ish. After Sam was sleep trained, after we started supplementing with formula (still nursed till he was nine months, but after an agonizing first three months, we realized we needed the help here and there), and after months of weirdness and complete joy all mixed together, I’m back! And better. Cause I’m a momma now. It wasn’t pretty, but it is beautiful. And my best advice to new momma’s everywhere, is don’t put lofty expectations on yourself or your family. You can’t live trying to constantly live up to yourself. I’m still terrified of a newborn, but now that I’ve been there and can see past what I couldn’t see in the moment (mainly cause I was riding the crazy train), I know what that life (& the Lord) has in store around every corner is always better than what it was. A full life is a good life. No matter the crazy that got you there.
And since I haven’t shown this blog pics of Sam for what? Like, 9 months? Here are some from early June and our beach trip last week. And the end.