Find Me Willing--How our little squirt became "Joel"

In my own head, I settled on the name “Joel” a couple of months ago. In some of my seemingly endless hours on bed rest, I piddled around on babycenter.com where they have a baby name explorer tool that allows you to browse names and meanings in a variety of interactive ways. I haphazardly typed in an assortment of names, all in all not finding many to add to my list of possibilities before I began to consider “Joel.”

But let me back up a little, here…

I have blogged from the beginning of this pregnancy and all through the hills and valleys of the 28 ½ weeks I carried Joel. Through my journey, I learned (and continue to learn) much about God’s faithfulness and what it really means to press into Jesus. I have learned a lot about prayer, too. I reflected in one post that I realized prayer was much more than stringing the right combination of words together in hopes of cracking “The God Code.” I also wrote that sometimes, I felt that Jesus heard me--even when I wasn’t able to say much of anything at all other than His name.

But before all this began with that positive pregnancy test in mid-September, I didn’t have that same confidence that prayer mattered. I have grown up hearing how prayer changes lives, how it’s a lifeline, and a million other things. Ultimately, though, when all the things I was supposed to know and believe were stripped away, prayer often felt arbitrary to me. Prayers of thanksgiving made sense. Praying to connect to a God I loved made sense. But praying through something big was hard for me, mostly because I have seen so many people not healed in the way we want them to be, not spared from tragedy, not changed on the timeline we set here on earth. I never doubted that God was capable of healing; I just didn’t understand the whens and hows and whys of His willingness to intervene with His power.

I still don’t understand those pieces, but I no longer feel as strongly compelled to figure all of it out. Now I see that being pulled into the presence of God, being lifted up, carried is reason enough to pray and that God’s hand moves in ways I often don’t expect. This doesn’t take away heartache or make life’s storms any less intense, but it does offer peace and hope and an eternal perspective. I didn’t see that then, though.

I wrote my blog post “Renewed” when I hit an ugly, heartbroken point in this pregnancy. I remember crying out and asking Jesus what I was supposed to do, what I was supposed to say. He found me and hope found me, and over the next few days, I felt as though God kept telling me time and time again, “Press in and find Me willing.” Those same words have echoed through my mind time and time again as this pregnancy moved forward.

And I have found God willing.

Willing to be my strength and greatest comfort.

Willing to raise up an army of people to pray for my family, love us, feed us, provide for us.

Willing to let us defy odds of miscarriage and stillbirth.

Willing to let me see my son’s face, hear his tiny cry, snuggle his tiny body to my chest.

Willing, I believe, to see us the rest of the way through this.

So...back to Joel’s name. While picking around on babycenter.com, I discovered that the name “Joel”--one I rather liked and Brian hadn’t vetoed, meant “God is willing.” Other sites have different meanings listed, but this meaning seemed to fit my faith journey and my hopes for my son perfectly. “Joel” he became.

Joel’s middle name is a family name. Brian’s middle name is William, as is his dad’s. My father-in-law’s grandfather was a William, too, I think.

Even though our little mister still has some growing to do and obstacles to clear before he can join us here at home, I love it that his sisters now have a baby they can refer to by name as they learn about him and dote on him through the pictures and videos they see.

Anna drew her “Baby Joel” (or “Baby Brother”) a picture of a “funny mother standing on a rock” to hang on his isolette. She was very proud of it and doesn’t quite understand why it has to hang from the front of Joel’s bed instead of being plastered to the side of it where he can stare at it all day.

Kate, when practicing her brother’s name, sounds like Andres Cantor, the soccer announcer who always yells “Gooooooal!” when he is covering games. I need to get her “Joooooooooel!” on video one of these days. I found a coloring page of Mighty Mouse for her to color for him. It will be proudly displayed on his isolette with Anna’s “funny mother.”

It will be something else to have them all 3 in the same place--all 3 here at home. And that time will be here sooner than I think.