Bless It Good

🌈 The Baby Angel Who Arrived Without a Name

(or How Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle Got Her Name)

Baby Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle

It was yet another absolutely perfect day of all-time in Heaven's Nursery when what would you know? A tiny little spark appeared with a tiny pop! It floated around, doing loop‑de‑loops it did and as it would.

And there happened to be a group of happy little cherubs, happily playing as always.
They do that.
And why they do, they couldn’t tell you.
But I tell you that they do.

And while they were doing what they always do, that tiny little spark giggled and poppled — and I’m pretty sure it even snickered politely — when suddenly a tiny cherub appeared right at that exact sparkle‑spot! Do sparkles do that in Heaven? Well, this one did.

And she must have got it right, too, because right was exactly where she stood. And as she stood there rightly, she glittered and giggled and glowed.

Naturally — and of course — the little heavenly cherubs inquisitively gathered around the noveltiest curiosity without a hesitation to meet the glowingest wonder‑osity.

Doubtless the daring darling duly dared to desire:
“What name are you?”

Wrapped in reservity, the unassuming diffident was substantially too timid — and to talk she was too little.

The novel cherub tried to discuss her affair — she really did — but all that came out were bubbles, snuffles, and a delightful yet petite “bloop” with other similar such declarations.

Perplexed and perpuzzled, the diminutive cherubites did ponder their conspicuous reflection. “Oh our goodnesses, we must meaning to have! With later the lesser and sooner the bester we believe, and as we should. For to call her by name is good and right, but by this or that is not proper or bright.”

Now you might wonder if to repeat this process they did — and they did, for sure. But goodness and besides, with all gracious reflection, to repeat this again would be ridiculously, redundantly repetitious.

A considerate toddlerian cardinally and carefully considered, rather conservatively:
“Don’t you have your name? Or have you placed it abouts?”

The determined angel waved her hands, cooed, and bubbled — and resolutely blooped once more —
but not a single true word could she annunciate. Oh dear, must she surrender to the ineffable? Alas, undoubtedly so.

One did softly sigh:
“I don’t think she has a name.”

Another indisputably stressed:
“Either so, or she simply can not tell.”

Poor little cherub.
Poor little baby girl.
The precious little angel — she had no name.

That’s like sprinkles without a cupcake.
A rainbow without a pot of gold.
A pretty flower without a bee a‑humming.

The enthusiastic heavenly toddlers gathered around her in a fluttering, squeaky cloud of discussion, swarming with their seasoned opinions.

“She needs a name!”

“A big name!”

“A sparkly name!”

“A name with wiggles!”

“A name with giggles!”

And because these cherubs were too exuberant, too vivacious, and altogether more than enough, they all began shouting suggestions all at once.

One cherub shouted:
“Joy!”

Another:
“Giggles!”

Another:
“Bless You!”

Another:
“Tastrophical!”

(Tastrophical?)

Another:
“Hallelujoodle!”

And because tiny cherubs aren’t good yet at deciding on things particular —
and because choosing is hard when everything sounds like sparkles and optimism —
they declared:
“We’ll use ALL of them!
Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle!”

They were thrilled.
She was thrilled.
Everyone was thrilled.

Her halo squeaked with happiness.
Her wings fluttered with joy —
or was it round the other way?

And that’s how the baby cherub became:
Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle
— the longest name ever given to a baby cherub who could barely pronounce a “bloop.”

Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle:
“Bloop!”

Now "bloops" were all she could utter. Which made for rather interesting debates and discussions.
But don’t you worry — for Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle quickly learned to talk.

She had to, just to say her name!

But how she keeps her tongue from getting tied into knots and again, we’ll never know.

Author’s Note
Some baby angels arrive in Heaven’s Nursery without a name.
But not to worry — for they are given the very best names,
names made from love, laughter,
and all the voices of welcome.
Joy was one of those angels.

🌟 When Gracie Met Joy

(also known as When Gracie Met Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle)

Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle

A very pretty little sparkly cherub fluttered up to Gracie, examining her with great curiosity — and Gracie, being Gracie, examined her right back. The two of them hovered there like glowing butterflies orbiting each other for no reason except to do… and then do again, because at the time, doing again seemed a certain must.

Suddenly, the tiny, perfectly manifested bundle of giggles decided to annunciate — with her usual clearities.

Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle:
“My name is Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle…
but my friends just call me Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelu.
But only if it’s Tuesday.”

Gracie blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then tilted her head like a confused daisy.

Gracie:
“Is it okay if I just call you Joy?”

Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle froze.
Her wings twitched.
Her halo did a full rotation.

Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle:
“ummmm… okay.”

Gracie smiled, relieved.

Gracie:
“And like… on every day?
At least the ones ending in ‘y’?”

Joy thought very hard.
You could see the thinking.
Her halo dimmed, brightened, dimmed again.

Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle:
“ummm… okay.”

And just like that, the longest name in heaven became Joy — seven days a week.

Joy:
“So remember, kids… my name is Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle.
If you say it just right, you’ll get smiles!”

She beamed — the kind of beam that makes halos wobble.

Gracie nodded solemnly beside her, like this was a matter of cosmic importance.

Joy leaned in, whispering like she was sharing a secret:
“But, if you can say my name just right, Joytastrophically-​Gigglina-​Blesshue-​Hallelujoodle…
I’ll smile so big my wings will squeak.”

And they do.
Every time.