WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Both the kids were asleep and Christian was babysitting with a dead phone when I got the news. There was nothing to do but fling open the back door and stand on the deck whisper screaming so no one would call the cops. I had already decided that I wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t make the cut, that I hadn’t heard the Holy Spirit whisper, that I was kidding myself.

But it turns out all those lies I was telling to myself. Those were lies, straight from the pit as I used to say. I texted some of the women in my life, called the first one to respond. I danced around my living room and let my dog use his one good eye to look at me funny. I waited up for Christian so I could tell him like it was really no big deal.

The next day I felt sheepish about it all. I have freinds with reall writing careers, MFAs, and books with their names and pictures on the back. This is one essay on one blog. It doesn’t really even matter. I started keeping it to myself, down playing it when I mentioned it. Your husband is busy and no one else really cares.

But the Spirit broke through, this is a big deal. This does matter, you do matter, Abby, your work matters. So last night when I got the girls we went to Trader Joe’s. Frozen chinese and sparkling wine. The Peanut pushed along the little cart as I put in the groceries. She reached for the 45 dollar bottle of sparkling wine “how bout this one?” “That’s nice honey, maybe when mommy gets a book deal.” We chose a peach one, 5.99. It was delicious. Christian has class until 10 on Tuesdays, so I put the girls to bed while the oven preheated.

I pulled out the fine china. When we got it for a wedding present I always assumed we would use them more. I topped both plates with rice, and everything else finished cooking just as Brooke walked in the door. We drank to the start of something.

I know that I have been called to lead my celebration, but to be honest I don’t always want to. Somewhere along the way I picked up that I should wait until someone else notices, someone else thinks it is important. I have always been a little jealous of people who had no qualms about shouting their own names. But in this season, with the babies, the school, the extra section of 9th grade english, God is calling me to honor myself. Celebrate when I accomplish something.

God wants me to throw my own party, and he wants me to invite Him as the guest of honor.

PS The essay series I have been accepted into is this one. It runs all week and then on Fridays and Saturdays for the next couple months. Mine didn’t make it into this week, but it will come later. Each essay so far has been truly beautiful. You really should check it out.

I am having trouble believing that it has almost been a year since my Rooster entered into this world. We have her pudgy newborn photo hanging on the wall underneath her sisters, and I stare at the picture of the infant that reminds me of a wrinkle dog. Her soulful eyes still stare into me, like they stared into that camera when she was just 24 hours old. The way they searched my heart while she was still inside of me.

Strangers on the street have stopped me before, to ask me about this babies eyes. They are nothing like I expected, lighter that I ever imagined. I have come to expect the ginger high lights, but somehow in my mind my dark eyes still power through to my girls.This idea is so firm in my head that I am sometimes still suprised when I look into her face, tipped up at me, calling “mama.” The Rooster’s eyes are somewhere between brown and hazel, they have the uncanny ability to reflect the space around her.

She has the uncanny ability to reflect the space around her. The emotions, the vibe of the room. This weekend we were at a mostly adults party, and she used every moment the Peanut was distracting me to crawl into the middle of the adults standing around and suprise them by appearing in the middle of the conversation circle at their feet. She would clap her hands and then wave bye-bye, looking back every so often to make sure she was still being noticed. It was delightful; she is delightful.

In the Rooster, I see my best self looking back at me. She believes in my goodness, she sees it right there! She is mischeivous in a way that harms no one, that brings a smile to your face. She loves nothing more than crawling from out behind her sister and jumping on her. Let the Wild Rumpus Begin! It is because of the Rooster we have instituted the rule :no wrestling in the bathtub.” She still thinks it would be fun….even if it isn’t allowed. She knows which buttons make the computer screen jump, and cannot understand why her father and I wouldn’t think that is as hilarious as she does…

She is my greatest reminder, that God’s plans are bigger and kinder than mine. I cannot believe I would have planned things any differently, even when it is hard. I part of me is sad, that it seems like it will be a long time until I get to hold another baby that is my own. I wonder if the adoption I dream of will be of an infant, if I will have a chance to rock those babies of mine. But I know that this has made me treasure this babyhood, even as she charges out of it.

Only one more year of this first year. Rooster, let’s make it a good one.

It is a new school year….and has been for two weeks for me. Christian started his school year last week. This school year greeted us with a barrage of set backs. A retirement of the Volvo station wagon, and a grown man getting Hand, Foot, Mouth disease just to highlight a few.

It always takes a minute for my family to adjust to the new school year, and these set backs also perfectly conincided with the Rooster refusing to sleep at night by herself. (“Let’s cuddle, Mom, All night! It will be awesome”….not awesome. Kid is a night sweat-er.) Long story short, it all became too much and I may have started snipping at my husband on the way out the door to women’s bible study.

I knew I didn’t want to fight because we were about to read James and isn’t that the part of the Bible about controling the tongue? I didn’t want to fight not because the Bible says I need to watch my mouth and respect and love my husband, but rather because I didn’t want to have to be convicted and then admitt that I am a jerk in front of the majority of the ladies at my church….Boy am I an A+ christian…..

Anyway, my plan didn’t work out and the pot boiled over, so much so that the Peanut was sitting at the table telling us “We don’t talk like that! Mommy, No talk like that!” This is hilarious because I wasn’t even aware she has heard me say that to her. She certainly doesn’t change her tone in response to it. But apparently she knows how we aren’t supposed to yell talk. In fact she may have gotten down from her booster seat “you okay mommy, you okay daddy?”

Yeah baby, we’re okay. Once talking kindly to each other and able to assure our oldest we in fact were okay, I drove to the new donut place to pick up my contribution to Saturday brunch. As I was waiting for the order I noticed the girl who was carefully placing my selection in the box. She had gone to my church for about 6 months and interviewed me for a paper she was writing about this community she was not a part of. She remembered my name and asked me about my kids. I remembered just how much I liked her. I felt the spirit pull at my heart. “I love this one, and I am trusting you with her. Love her well.”

We didn’t get to the tame the tongue part of James this week. Turns out that is chapter4. Instead we talked about the first chapter. Th part that tells us to “count it all Joy” when we face trials of any kind…especially the kind that seem to come out of nowhere. Especially the kind that won’t matter eternally.

And I will be honest with you. At first I was totally annoyed by this verse. I am really sorry James but I will not be singing zippity-do-dah while my baby barfs all over me and infects my husband with boils, and I will not be skipping down the halls when the car repair place called to tell us that the only thing wrong with the car was the computer chip that tells you what is wrong with the car, but that essentially totaled it. No I will not be joyous about this!

But that isn’t what James is saying. James is saying, my dear this is temporary. Do not let it distract you from bigger things, eternal things. You will one day be well rested, but right now I want you to love that sweet girl anyway. You will one day be unconcerned about car repair. This stuff doesn’t have to matter. You are right, it does suck butt. With Jesus it still sucks, but there is an end. There is an eternal perspective.

Christian’s reading load is insane this year and after just a week I am feeling the frazzled nerves of a PhD widow all over again. It sucks butt. But it is temporary. I know that this sucks, but it isn’t forever and I am sure it is the best thing for our family for now. Even when it sucks.

James isn’t telling me to put on a happy face. He is telling me this isn’t the end. There is a but…a big one

The school year has started. And like what feels like every year before I have gone to a training where they throw a ton of new information at me, say something like “I know this is a lot, but hopefully in years to come we will not have so much new material….only there is yet to be a year where there ISN’T all new material. Georgia has adopted standards that over half the country is using so here’s to this year being the first year they mean that.

I had a colleague my first couple of years who would greet you with “Happy New Year” that first week. And it is. Teaching is cyclical in a way that very few proffesions are and it is the top of the cycle for me. To be honest I am already exhausted. I am hoping this is more because we ran out of coffee than anything else but I really can’t believe that I ran at this pace all last year. I was starting to get burned out already when the Lord left me a multitude of signs that his grace is both sufficient and extravagant.

-We went to the grocery store and there was a spot in the first row with a two seater steering wheel cart next to it. Empty and waiting just for us.

-I got zero dirty looks in response to the fact that the Rooster took her part of the cookie we were all sharing and smeared it all over her face and into her eyebrows (She is a much messier baby than her sister was) only kind comments about how cute she is.

-The Rooster crashed immediately

-The Peanut didn’t fight bedtime and when we went to go brush teeth she called the toothpaste “poo-taste” bwahahahaha.

-We saw J, M, and S tonight so their mom could go to work and she blessed each one about ten times.

-I set the timer for ten minutes and that was all it took to get the house marginally picked up.

I don’t know why the Lord has claimed this time in our life for what feels like a break-neck speed. But I do know He has me strapped in tight. I need only hold on to Him….and remember to use poo-taste every morning and night.