Foreword side note: I failed to send you guys off to my friend Amanda’s for a Love Song Extravaganza a few days ago! But since I’d just come home from the hospital with a newborn, you forgive me, right?

Amanda’s Musings at Seriously are as delightful as her sweet and refreshingly matter-of-fact personality. Super delightful. Her “Lerve Songs Extravaganza” started with this explanation here, and Hero Hubs and yours truly kicked off the next day with our Top Ten List right here. You can still enjoy good internet content if it’s a few days past the born-on date, right?

So. I am sure many of you would like to hear a detailed explanation of why our baby boy’s name is not Kiwano, or Nathaniel, or any of the other lovely names that were suggested when we asked for help. {I will here interrupt to admit apologetically to dear Laura Anne that Kiwano was never actually up for consideration. Forgive us. 🙂 }


Several of the names you guys suggested were at the top of the list for us — I especially liked Caleb and Ethan. The hubs wasn’t a huge fan of Caleb, and when he #1 discovered that Ethan was one of the most popular names last year and #2 thought about his feelings toward the only Ethan he knows of (actor Ethan Hawke) that name quickly lost favour. I liked Owen a lot too, but the Hubs thinks Owen Wilson is goofy. Bryson or Bryce was on the list for a while, too, I think.

It seemed that we each liked several suggestions, but we never both loved the same suggestion at the same time. There was just some X factor that we were struggling to find. For a while we fancied Lachlan, but since the meaning is “from the land of lochs” and this little one, unlike the Bear, would not be born in Scotland, it just didn’t seem right. Luke was very high on the list for quite some time, and was pretty close to being the one at a few points.

Then one day (very close to d-day) the Hubs said, “What do you think of the name Blake?” I paused to ponder the name, said it aloud and coupled it with our surname, pondered it some more and decided I loved it. Then it dawned on me: the beautiful thing that the Hubs didn’t realise was that Blake was my maternal grandfather’s name. My grandfather, my Mom’s eldest brother, his son, and his son are all Blakes. When I called my Mom to tell her it was on the list and ask her opinion, she was in tears, so we thought it was probably a keeper.

The name has two opposite meanings: fair/pale/bright or dark. As I’ve taken time to consider the multiple meanings, I’ve thought about the instructions of Jesus to be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves. I pray that in the years to come this little one will have the wisdom to appropriately navigate whatever might come his way. And may he live as a bright and shining light for Jesus!

His middle name, for those of you who might not know, is my maiden name, and this choice was also Hero Hubs’ suggestion. The Bear carries his grandfather’s name and of course the paternal surname, so HH liked the idea of connecting this little one to the maternal side of the family. The most common meaning I’ve found for Darrow has been wielder of the spear. We pray that this little one would indeed fight the good fight of faith for the kingdom of God.

But more than just focusing on the specific meaning of the name, as I have felt a tendency to do in these forty-plus weeks, I’ve also been stirred to consider the bigger picture, the greater story. A grandfather I never had the privilege of meeting, another I knew very little of — they are both a part of the story of this child. His Dad who looked up on a sunny afternoon with a name in his heart, my Mom who wept over Skype as I whispered the possibility — this little Blake is part of a story that goes back and back and back, and will hopefully stretch forward and forward and forward. The lives we are given are an invitation to be a part of the life that has already been happening, since the Creator of the Universe first said Let there be and there was.

And into this family, this place, this time, in God’s perfect timing, this stanza in the symphony of life has begun to play its notes. With crescendo and decrescendo, pauses and rests and refrains, this one’s opportunity, this one’s moment, this one’s song has begun. Overjoyed to be on this side of the prelude, we hear the soft and sweet first notes and rejoice.

A Blake by any other name would probably be as sweet…but we find joy in welcoming him into our song and our story.