Chapter One: Naming and Promise
The night was deep, and a gentle breeze brushed against the windowpanes in Indiana, much like the night wind in Jingshan Village more than forty years ago. Back then, clothes hung beneath the eaves swayed in the breeze; now, on this foreign land, the story of another life was quietly beginning.
At 11:00 p.m. on January 17, 2023, a faint yet clear cry broke the silence of the delivery room. At that moment, our son was born.
We named him John Earnest Zhang. His Chinese name was “Zhang Xian.”
The name “John” was given to him by Pastor John, his American “spiritual grandpa.” For us, the name carried the meaning “The Lord is gracious,” and it also connected a spiritual family from America with our own family.
“Earnest” expresses sincerity, seriousness, and earnestness. It also carried our hope for him: that he would have a genuine and godly heart.
I chose his Chinese name, “Zhang Xian.” It sounds like the Chinese word for “manifest,” because I hoped that his life, however long or short, would be a life that manifested the glory of God.
There was another name, one his mother had already placed in her heart while she was carrying him—
Little Wheat.
The name came from the words of our Lord Jesus:
“Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” —John 12:24, KJV
At the time, we did not know that this verse would later enter our family's story in such a profound way.
His mother simply hoped that this little child would grow like a grain of wheat in the life God had given him, receive a spiritual heritage in faith, and bear good fruit.
A few months before he was born, after a Sunday worship service, we went specifically to speak with Pastor John about the baby's name.
He asked us:
“Have you decided on a name?”
I said:
“Could we call him John, just like you?”
He was very happy.
In this way, the name of a child connected two generations of faith, two cultural backgrounds, and two families.
Pastor John prayed for this child who had not yet been born. There were tears in that prayer, and there was blessing. He prayed for the child's future life, health, breathing, and spiritual journey, hoping that one day he would become someone faithful to the truth and sincere in serving God.
At that moment, I felt more and more that this was more than just a name.
Sometimes a name also carries a family's prayers.
Later, as I stood in the delivery room holding my wife's hand and watching the doctors and nurses gathered around her, I said silently to God:
“Lord, whatever this child's life may be like, I am willing to entrust him to You.”
It was not a religious phrase I had prepared in advance.
It was the prayer of a man becoming a father for the first time, spoken in the midst of joy, nervousness, and the unknown.
I thought of Hannah dedicating Samuel to the Lord, and I thought of those in Scripture who entrusted what was most precious to them back into God's hands.
At the time, I did not know how deeply that prayer would one day be tested.
I knew only this:
This child was the child we dearly loved,
and he was also the child God had given to us.
Little Wheat, you were still so small then.
Your name had already been written into our prayers,
and your story had already begun.