On my IPhone notepad for too many years I have been compiling my “name list.” You know, that list every girl secretly keeps of potential names for babies one day in the far future. Sorry, but I won’t be disclosing any of these wonderful names for fear of my sister (yes you, Elizabeth) deciding to quietly cop one and put it on her name list.
Until last night, I didn’t intend to be naming children for quite some time.
Every evening our ministry host takes a group of us to a slum neighborhood about 30 minutes from where we are living. Our ministry host’s church is responsible for this specific neighborhood and whenever families in this neighborhood reach out for prayer or support, teams are sent for house visits.
The “neighborhood” is basically a crowded stretch of farmland that has been sprinkled with small concrete blocks, dilapidated shanty houses with leaking tin roofs, more cows and stray dogs wandering the streets than people, and large piles of trash on every corner. The hundreds of families living here all live in loving community with open doors.
More than once, 3 scheduled house visits turn into 4 or 5. Often times while we are sitting in the floor of one home praying over a family, little kids will be sticking their heads through the windows and the door, begging their parents to come see the newest zoo exhibit (also known as white people). Their parents will then proceed to invite us into their little concrete homes showering us with prayer requests, and cups of steaming Chai.
Last night, when pulling up to the street where we would be visiting, we saw a family sitting in front of their home cooking over a fire. Along with the parents there were 3 little girls, excitedly waving and blowing us kisses, a young women holding a baby and several other children. As soon as my teammate Gabby saw the baby she started begging our translator to let us go visit with this family. Our translator didn’t know anyone in this particular home so he ushered us along to our first appointment. The little girls chased us all the way to end of the row of houses and sat in the doorway as we visited with an elderly widow.
Just as we were leaving this first home the monsoon storm struck with it’s usual torrential flooding. Our translator shouted above the roar of the rain saying “Hey do you still want to hold the baby?” When it comes to Indian babies with the big round eyes that is not even a question. So we covered our heads with our colorful scarves and sprinted through the rain behind the 3 giggling girls as they guided us to their home.
The whole family greeted us excitedly and welcomed us in. Between the family and us there were about 10 people piled into this one room house, half the size of my bedroom at home. A chorus of “sit, sit, sit” demanded us to rest on the wooden platform that served as their bed. The family quickly refused to sit anywhere other than the floor. The power was out from the rainstorm so we sat in the dark with a few flashlights illuminating all the smiling faces.
The eldest daughter Rebecca was 18 and had her own 3-month year old son. This tiny nugget was wet from the rain and lay shivering in her arms. Gabby took the baby into her arms as Rebecca asked us to pray for his health.
Following our prayer Rebecca explained to our translator that the baby had never been named and she wanted US, to name HER baby. WHAT?! I mean this is probably the biggest honor I’ve ever been given in my whole life. She nodded excitedly to show us she was serious and the whole family smiled back in agreement.
We were all overwhelmed by this monumental responsibility so we decided we should just ask the Lord what he thought about the whole matter.
As I prayed the name Joshua kept coming up, I do not really know any Joshua’s so I didn’t have any preconceived notions about that name, and it wasn’t on my own personal name list..
but guess what…
JoJo, one of the long-term missionaries who was with us that night, came up with the name Joshua as well. So that conveniently settled it. Thank you Jesus! I’m not really one to argue with God so Joshua it was.
As soon as we said the name Joshua out loud Rebecca smiled and nodded in approval and all the children started excitedly screaming Joshua’s new name.
To say it was a joy to spend time with this precious baby and his family was an understatement. We stayed awhile, singing songs, and communicating with dramatic hand gestures, and laughing, until the power came back on and the rain stopped.
Now that the lights were back on, as we were exiting the house JoJo happened to glance at some of the decorations hanging on the door. There were several bible verses stuck to the door and one read like this:
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Joshua 1:9
Thank you Lord for baby Joshua. Thank you for monsoon season. Thank you for your clever perfect timing.
