That said, it's been on my heart for quite some time now to share Thorin's story...if for no other reason but to 'preserve' the precious memories that led to him receiving the name we gave him.
So, here it goes.
Thorin Andrus.
I've been told more than once 'what a STRONG name'--and while I agree, it has less to do with strength and more to do with the Strength and Power of our Creator.
Thorin was never supposed to 'be.' Of course, as all parents proclaim about their children--once they are in your life, you can't imagine them NOT being. But years ago (6 in fact to nearly the very day that a second little line on a pregnancy strip appeared), Aaron and I were told two is all we'd be able to biologically have due to cancer.
Having beat said cancer and moved on, day by day, to LIVE MORE LIFE...we now walk through life intimately aware of God's Power. His ability to, literally, Move Mountains.
God gave me that Word before he gave us Thorin's name in order to gift me Peace that this baby was not the daughter everyone had hoped and anticipated we were finally having. He told me in my 'prayer room' (aka, laundry room) to STOP 'lamenting' and instead REJOICE that He had moved ALL of the barriers from years past that had created the mountain range that stood between us and more children. He gave that similar Word to Aaron on the very same day while he was at work--as little did I know, but my husband was also finding himself in a state of mourning over the gender-news we'd received just days before.
Mountains became my 'symbol' for Thorin--for God's Plans for us--and hence, Thorin's nursery theme. Bears, which I also incorporated, were the representation of Strength that not only God has to move such mountains, but I prayed my son, too, would possess.
And Joshua 1:9.
A very specific verse that the Lord gave me for all THREE of my boy-children and future Men of God that I was now charged with raising.
Fast forward to a Sunday, after church. We hadn't settled on a name. It seemed every name on my list (cause I was really the only one generating one) was unappealing to one or more of us, and since we'd decided we ALL had to agree, my list went from a good 15 names down to NONE.
I was frustrated. I NEEDED this baby to have an 'identity.' Sure he was my little 'mountain-mover' but he was a new person in our lives and I wanted to identify him by name--even if we four all agreed we would wait to share it with a single soul until after he was born.
We'd stopped into the grocery store for a few dinner-makings and just as we were about to head in, I scrolled past a name. 'Thorin,' I muttered to myself, but consequently loudly enough for the family to hear. Gasps of approval filled the car. I look up. 'Wait, what did you say?' asks Aaron. I say it again. He smiles and the boys both exclaim--'We LIKE that!' 'What does it mean?' asks Aaron, again. I look back down. 'Thunder', I reply. 'Son of Thunder.'
Thunder.
The very word I would use to describe God's voice. Even in the Bible, His voice is described as such more than once. It is Loud. But Deep. And Powerful. And attention-getting. But also mysterious and strangely Beautiful.
What about a middle name?
I search and as I'm searching mention that I really want something that represents Strength. Also, WHOM could we 'pass on' through our newest son that we have not already? My brother, perhaps? Or me? Or BOTH?
Ryann's middle name is Andrew. Mine is Anne.
Andrew means 'manly', 'brave', 'strong', 'courageous' and 'warrior.' Any and all of those translations are immediately found when searching it. Andrus is an English derivative of Andrew and Andrew was also one of the fisher's of men--Simon/Peter's brother.
For a while, I actually vascilated about naming him Andrus as I felt it was so fitting but none of us were crazy enough about the nickname 'Andy' to agree to that.
We spend the whole grocery trip whispering the name back and forth to one another, feeling 100% confident we'd just, finally, settled on our future family-members name.
Thorin Andrus Ziebart. Our little Son of Thunder and Strength.
Fast forward to months later.
Something in me stirred. There was always still that part of me that lamented the possibility of a daughter--but it was more than that. I worried that 'Thor' would be tagged by the world as a mere comic-book-hero. The male-geek in Aaron LOVED that one of his absolute favorite characters would be, as a side-note to our purposing it, his newest son's name...but I struggled that people would be too distracted by that connotation to ever know the much richer depth of why we'd settled on it and I HATED the idea of ever nicknaming him 'Thor' for that reason, too.
37 1/2 weeks into the journey of growing our little man, I get a phone call from our church pastor. God has put it on his heart to ask a few of the women in our congregation to share their 'experience' of motherhood at our upcoming Mother's Day service and I am one of the names God's given him.
Reluctant but feeling God's urge to say yes, I agree. I spend a very-pregnant evening sitting amidst the 'mountains' of my newest son's nearly-done nursery in hopes that the 'right words' will flow out of my fingers into a 12-minute-allotted testimony.
God is Faithful. I haven't typed anything in MONTHS--maybe even YEARS--but the message flows.
I share it the next day and manage to, mostly, keep myself from crying my way through it.
It's powerful. A journey. A HARD, LONG, PATIENCE-TEACHING JOURNEY has led up to an expected THIRD SON in our lives.
Two other beautiful, more 'experienced' mamas than myself share. All three of our testimonies SO different, yet so filled with God's Word and Awesome Promises.
After service, the eldest mama of the three of us finds me. She grabs my hand and thanks me for what I shared. I return the thanks. Her words and 'story' were nothing short of awesome, as well.
She then asks me what we're naming this miracle-baby. I apologize that we've decided, early on, to share that with everyone only after he makes his appearance. She smiles, understands and says 'I'm sure it's perfect.'
Just as I think we are done interacting, she says 'I was asking because God keeps giving me a word and I'm trying to make sense of it. As you were speaking He kept muttering it over and over and hasn't stopped asking me to share it with you--but it just doesn't make any sense to me.' Thinking she'll site something about courage or strength (because I have shared both profound words amidst my testimony for years, now) I ask her to share it with me, anyway. She smiles again and with a searching look on her face she looks down at our clasped hands, looks back up with welled up eyes and says well...it's crazy...but it's, thunder.
I stumble, reaching for a chair to catch my weak knees--or at least to maintain my very-pregnant balance. She worries. My face has flushed color and she fears that what she's just said has offended me. I assure her it has not. 'While I cannot explain that word to you yet, Michelle...TRUST ME...it will make sense to you, soon enough.' I envelope her in a solid hug, holding back the tears. 'Thank you. Thank you SO MUCH for your obedience. You have NO IDEA what that word means to me.'
She smiles a third time. 'Of course--I'm so glad!'
I RUN *as safely as a woman just shy of two weeks from delivery can* out to the parking lot to catch up with my boys. I GRAB Aaron, exclaiming through tears what has just been spoken over our future-son. He's floored with awe and has difficulty even believing the accuracy of my story but is grateful as he too knows now--our son HAS A NAME.
Not even two weeks later, we deliver our newest little boy. A TRAUMATIC and rather awful birth, to be honest, but God is Faithful and brings us both through it safe and healthy--which is really ALL that matters. Two weeks, post c-section recovery I ask that we go to church for the first time as a family of FIVE. Amidst the morning announcements, our pastor spots us in the very back and exclaims his shock at our presence. Feeling inspired to do so, I snag our TINY little newborn from his stroller bassinet, stand up, briefly, holding him above my head and while doing so shout out 'Church, meet Thorin Andrus!' Baby-response 'aaaaaahs' ensue and we sit for the rest of service.
Just after service ends, we find ourselves surrounded by a short line of church-members who want to see and meet baby T, up-close-and-personal. When all had received their desired fix, I place him back into his bassinet and prepare to head home. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. It's Michelle--and as soon as I turn around to interact she raises her hands into the air and exclaims in the loudest praise-filled-voice possible...'THUNDER!!!!!!' I squeal and say 'YES!!!' We laugh and embrace in JOY!
Our little Thunder-man.
For a little over a year now, this little boy has literally ROCKED OUR WORLD in the most amazing and unexpected ways. His first two months of life were spent SCREAMING, non-stop, in response to his lactose-intolerant belly that took us all far too long to diagnose. Once doing so, however, he became our smiley, BUSY, STRONG but tender little buddy.
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