Hello, tender friends!
We didn’t choose Cub’s name. And even though I went through the still medieval birthing process, I know that he is God’s. That’s a tough pill to swallow as a woman who went through a somewhat difficult birth. Yet I know the Hebrew for El Chuwl, the God who gave you birth, is true. What follows is part of the reason why.

I was in denial the first seven weeks of pregnancy. For a month, Anthony urged me to take a pregnancy test. “That’s so statistically unlikely,” I told him, over and over.
Then I took the test. Terror seized me. I uttered expletives because the idea of giving birth scared me. Who am I to be a mother? I fretted. Then the prayers began, Lord, please help me to not screw our kid up.
Anthony said, “Stacey, I felt the Holy Spirit the moment you conceived. God told me you were pregnant.”
After the test, I prayed for the baby’s name. After about two weeks, Yahweh said, “His name is Jacob.” I had never liked the name Jacob. I told Anthony that God had told me the name but I wasn’t going to tell him. I was afraid he’d be influenced by the power of suggestion.
A week or two after I heard it, Anthony and I were praying together, and he said, “God just told me his name. His name is Jacob.”
I said, “That’s the same name I heard! But I don’t like the name Jacob.”
“I don’t like it either,” Anthony said.
We held out hope that we’d been wrong. When I went to have the anatomy scan done at 21 weeks, the technician said, “What’s your guess? Is it a boy or a girl?”
I said, “We know he’s a boy.”
She said, “You’re right.”
I look back at that day and wonder if I missed an opportunity. I have no idea if the technician was a believer or not, but what a testimony it would have been to say, “I know he’s a boy because God already told me and my husband his name is Jacob. I’m only here because the OB needs an accurate due date. While the human in me wants to confirm that he’s anatomically normal, I know that God predestined this child to be our son and will accept whatever comes, for I know that God is with us.”
I didn’t say any of that though. I was afraid of sounding foolish or being wrong. I thought I’d look like an idiot if I said, “I know he’s a boy because God told us his name is Jacob,” and she snickered and said, “Well, you better check your phone line to God, because it’s a girl!”

We still hoped we were wrong about the name, even though we now knew we’d have a son. The following week Anthony and I met a friend for lunch. She has no prophetic gifting, and when she asked if we’d chosen a name, I told her to guess. She said, “Jacob” without hesitation.
I squeezed Anthony’s arm and asked her, “How did you know that?”
She said, “Is that right? It was the only name I could think of when you asked.”
If that’s no woo woo enough for you, hold on. I discovered a journal entry that I wrote two years before I got pregnant in which I wrote, “I heard God tell me that our firstborn child will be a son. His name will start with a J, but I can’t discern the whole name. I’m hoping it will be Josiah because that’s the only boy’s name that starts with a J that I like. Maybe it’s Joseph, which would be ok. I really don’t like the name Jacob.” (I discovered this journal recently while decluttering).

I also had visions of a newborn boy with bright blue eyes at that same time I wrote that journal entry, two years before I was pregnant. I’m not prone to visions and thought I was imagining it all. (Another unrelated part of the vision was that Anthony said goodbye to me in the morning like he was going to work, but he carried a sword. In the vision, it was casual, like “Oh, have a good day, my love, just make sure you stick your sword all the way down in the sheath so you don’t accidentally poke anyone!”)
Then, once I knew I was pregnant with a baby boy named Jacob, I opened my heart and had actual dreams of him. In the dreams of him I had during pregnancy, he was a toddler. When he reached toddler age, he started looking exactly like he did in my dream, with the exception that the overhead light in my dreams was much brighter and consequently made his hair look blonder. I’m not sure what the reason for this small discrepancy is.
So that’s the story of Cub’s real name. We call him Cub as a nickname, but sometimes God actually tells me to use his full name and call him Jacob. His middle name is David, the same as Anthony’s. (Also, I loved David for the first name and we asked God if we could have that for his first name instead. When we were praying this, Yahweh said, “Don’t fight me on this. His name is Jacob.”)

(That’s my Jacob David at a few days old. Wasn’t he just perfect?)
I hope Jacob David grows up to love his name. I’ve never actually liked my own name, possibly because so many people have said, “You don’t look like a Stacey” over the years. But the other benefit of obeying God is that if he doesn’t, we can always say, “You need to take that up with Yahweh. He’s the one who chose your name.”
What will the future hold? I don’t know, but I can tell you that Jacob has been the wildest unexpected blessing I’ve ever had. People frequently say, “Your son is so full of joy and life,” and I always think, “Thank you, God.” I believe that Jacob’s joy is a gift that God gave us because we prayed for it and obeyed Him.
I have learned that giving up what you covet, even if it’s “just” a name, ushers in tremendous blessing from Yahweh.

Ok, I hope that wasn’t too long. Writing this reminded me of so many related things I need to get to writing about. This Thursday’s post will be about Yahweh’s provision, which I know I’ve written about before, but I have another recent example. I’ll share a food post next Monday since it’s been a while for those.

(This was my Jacob David visiting a local history museum this weekend).
Thank you for stopping by, thank you to the new friends, and I’ll see you Thursday!
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