What's in a Name?

When I pray for my boys, I pray for the men they will become. I pray that they will be men of integrity and justice. I pray that they will fight for those who are oppressed and speak for those who have no voice. It is this prayer that got me thinking of the name we would bestow upon our third boy.

As we contemplated naming our third born, I gravitated toward the name Caden. It’s Welsh/Irish meaning is “spirit of battle”. As Christians, we know our battle is not against flesh and blood but against the powers of sin and the evil one. I pray that as Caden matures, he will battle against the powers of evil- the powers of oppression and injustice.

His middle name, Earl, is in honor of my late Grandpa. Earl means “warrior.” When we think of “warriors” in the traditional sense, we think of fighters- bloodied from battle, aggressive and powerful. But perhaps, there is another way to view “warrior.” What about the man or woman who fights for justice using their words and influence rather than brute strength? What about the person whose care and compassion toward others is so fierce that nothing will get in their way of showing the love of Christ toward their fellow brother or sister? This is the kind of warrior I want to raise. A warrior for the King of Kings.

As it happens, Caden has already proved his warrior-like spirit. When he was born, he had trouble breathing. The doctor thought he might have swallowed some amniotic fluid. In what felt like a deja-vu nightmare (Justus had trouble breathing and spent 12 days in the hospital after he was born), more and more doctors flooded our delivery room and then it was decided to take him to the NICU. Silent tears streamed down my face as I realized what this could mean. I pleaded to hold my baby one last time before they took him away (pictured to the right). After they took him away, I was alone in the room- an empty shell- no baby in my womb or my arms.

But as always, God is in control. A few minutes later our warrior baby was rolled back into my room. Apparently, once they reached the NICU, his breathing became regulated. The doctor and nurses were joking that he was, indeed, a little fighter- living up to his name.

I know this is only one of many battles my son will face. But I take comfort in knowing that God will equip him for each battle he will endure. Not only that, I pray that he will fight on the behalf of others- a warrior for Christ.