Abigail Dianne Sullivan

Remember this?

Well, it's a little late announcement, but SHE'S HERE! And my oh my, is she ever precious! She is beautiful and makes ridiculously adorable expressions. Guess I'll just let you see for yourself!







What a blessing from God! She is perfect in every way. By the way, I'm sure some of you will wonder what all the wires are. She had some blood sugar issues at birth and a possible respiratory infection, so she was in the NICU for 10 days. It was hard for her mom and dad, but all is well now. And let me take this moment to thank you for praying for this little pumpkin throughout the pregnancy months. She is beautiful and so very loved!

Peace of Christ to you,

Because You Don't Get Strong Pieces From a Weak Whole

A friend of mine posted a link to a commentary over the Super Proverbs 31 Woman. You know, the girl most of us can't stand because she makes us look pathetic. That one.

But actually, the more I study "her," I realize that this may be a description of multiple women and simply the characteristics all combined that make up the "ideal" woman. Because really, is there any way that one single woman can really have ALL that? Probably not.

Anyway, that's beside the point. My real point is something else--something I noticed that I'd never connected before with this woman. Here's a snip from the site:

"She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks." We get a picture of a woman who vigorously goes about her duties. She keeps herself healthy and strong by proper health practices — good diet, adequate rest and exercise. Many people depend on her.

Never before had I given much thought to what this truly means: that her arms are strong for her tasks. I think this commentary nails it; she can only be strong if she's healthy. Why have I not connected this before? I have a lot of tasks, but am I strong for them?

So many things are demanded of us women. Children are demanding. Our jobs are demanding. Our relationships are demanding. It seems that everything and everyone wants some small--albeit exhausting at times--piece of us. I don't know about you, but my pieces are pretty weak when my whole is not well cared for. For starters, I have a horrible habit of not eating all day. I get up in the morning and run on nothing but coffee. All day. You can imagine that I crash pretty quickly. So what do I do? Refill that bad boy with more caffeine, of course--what else? I'm left with minimal energy to invest in all the areas required of me. My kids don't get a very focused mom. I'm shaky and sometimes fidgety. (I probably look like I'm on some really good stuff!) I stay hungry, but I ignore it and then wonder why I have no energy. I know that I probably sound pretty insane right now, but this is truly where I land most days. I share all of this because I feel that God is on the brink of redeeming this in me--to slowly cultivate me into this highly sought after woman. Or at least into being a few steps closer to her anyway.

Because my family needs me and needs much of me, I am committing to push toward better health. I'm anxious to see how this plays a role in transforming even my heart!
Peace of Christ to you,

Preggo Surprise Party (that I forgot to post)

I can't believe I never posted these pictures, but a while back we threw a surprise "YAY! You're Expecting!" party for our dear friends, Gwen and John! Here's how the afternoon went:


Having no idea what is going on here:



Here's the look when she saw...







THIS!









Daddy-to-be was surprised too!





We did a C-section on the cake!



Played a couple of fun prediction games:









My preggies and me:



Wait...did you notice that I said preggIES? Mmhmm. Tera on the left planned this entire party with me for a month and then waited til the end of the party to nonchalantly say: "You probably wouldn't be surprised if I told you I was pregnant, too." It took me a couple of seconds to realize what she had just told us! Yep! And how insane is it that her due date is the day before Gwen's?!

Happy preggo to my two best girl friends!



Looking forward to meeting these two sweet little bits, which by the way are a girl for Gwen and John and boy for Tera and Trav! :)

Peace of Christ to you,

Happy First Birthday, Caleb!

Today is one of those days that I clearly told myself would not happen and, if indeed it did happen, it wouldn't be emotional for me.

Today is Caleb's first birthday.

It's a little hard to put into words, really, but the realization that it's been a year since this little guy came into our family and drastically changed so much of what I thought I knew...well, it makes me a wee bit emotional! It took me so long to fully connect, to engage with him, that it feels like a shock that he could seriously be one year old already. With my first two, it didn't hit me this way because I had connected with them from the moment they were born--and really, before that. I was expecting them, I was anticipating their addition to our family. The moment their scrunched up faces were placed on my chest, I was sold. I was taken.

I hate to admit it, but Caleb was different. To begin with, he wasn't placed on my chest. Ever. At least not in the same way. The only touch at all that he felt from me for the first twelve hours was a hurried, shallow peck on his miniature cheek. And I was terrified to do even that. I held such an ocean of guilt for not being able to keep him inside longer where maybe he would've been safer. And then I know that maybe he wouldn't have been. Either way, it felt nearly impossible to fully enjoy his arrival.

And then it just went downhill from there. But I believe God has healed me emotionally as well as physically, and today he is purely a delight. I look at him and can't believe I was ever doubtful of this! I've mentioned before that I'm normally one of these who is skeptical of some illnesses such as postpartum depression, etc. The past year has certainly changed my mind on this since it was brought directly to my front door. In fact, it was the house guest who didn't leave for months on end.

Now I get it. It's real. It's crippling and equally dangerous for every family member involved. I so deeply regret the strain it put on my husband, the confusion and tension I know it added to Keagan and Kate. But I know they are resilient and young, so they'll likely not carry those moments with them into the future. I pray that our future only becomes brighter as we continue rebuilding and strengthening our family. It's so good to be back, and my husband often looks at me and says the same: "It's so nice to have you back."

I know there are some great husbands out there, but no one will truly know just how remarkable mine is like I do because he took on so much more of a load than I can even share here. I was digging through my scrapping box the other day and I found the stapled together sign-in sheets of Caleb's NICU stay. I didn't count the entries of his name, but believe me--there are a LOT. He was there every moment he could be.

So today we have this toothy little grin-ball to dote over and say, "Happy Birthday" to. And my heart is happy in the mix. The tears are sown from seeds of joy--not just sadness--that he's growing up! There's such joy that we get to have his first birthday, that God kept him safe and brought him home to us!

So, Happy Birthday, Caleb! What a precious joy your presence is in our family! Now if we can just get you to stop sounding like a pterodactyl with your LOUD screeching, squawking, ear-piercing screams. Ahem...We love you anyway, of course!
Peace of Christ to you,

Dancing with a Plastic Cup

A girl and a boy--my girl and my boy--run shoeless on rain-bent grass and squeal in the thundery wash. The plan was to nap, but who can resist this temptation to turn our faces toward the smokey sky and let the water wash our brows, our noses, and cheeks? Not us, not in the middle of summer when even our bodies plead for this drink.

No toys are needed out here--just a couple of plastic cups to catch the treasure. And today it is treasure, like finding gold. I sit and I wonder if life can really be this simple...if we can really be this delighted in something as simple as rain.

Today we can and we are.

The cups are filled to the brim and so is my heart. Because I see how He meant us to feel when He sends such a joy straight down from His hands. It's simple--no technology is required to feel this gratefulness. The television can't recreate the rain's sound, the smell, the rush of cool on our faces. A social networking program can express that it's raining, but we can't experience it until we peek our toes out from under the porch and wash them in the spilling from eaves.

A reason I love days like these is that I feel more akin to our sisters, brothers from centuries ago when rain blessed their days more than a piece of technology, or a program on the television, or a case on the news. Livelihood flowed from those drops; it meant they would eat, they would drink, they would live. We only "enjoy" it in moderation, but the dependence on it is not ours to grasp.

Of course, I'm thankful for our gadgets and devices and industrialization and how I can twist a knob to draw steaming water that eases my sore muscles. But I do love these simple days where I wonder if I can begin to comprehend the joy and appreciate the dance God's people did when He sent from His hand such a blessing as this--the blessing that was life itself.

Yes, my heart is filled to the brim as I watch my little joys with bare toes as they dance with plastic cups, collecting His gift of fresh, simple, life.

Peace of Christ to you,

Sweet Potatoes

I pluck the gold-tinted can of sweet potatoes from the shelf labeled "$.94" and I think of that paper on the counter with the little boy holding a sweet potato...

I shuffle through aisles, weave through baskets, and reach my hand to take what will be mine, mine and my children's and my husband's for the week. Just for the week. The numbers are $99.89 and relief consumes since I've conquered my budget for the week. Just for the week. Waiting to pay behind me are impatient, annoyed faces. We wait, though we feel we shouldn't. I think of the boy. How long does he wait? The fans feet above me bathe myself in a chill. Do I dare begrudge them when others so far away have no chance to be uncomfortably cold?

I had left it on the counter for a day; the pull toward his smile, his black, glistening eyes nearly magnetic. The numbers were $38 for this food and for tools to tend it and for supplies to grow it.

Hours went by and budgets were planned, and those shiny black eyes slipped silently into the trash can. And my heart is broken at my lack of faith, my selfish "I wish I had" 's. And I know I will forget this and yet again be one who complains of too much air or a meal I'm not in the mood for--but I pray that God keeps my heart soft, that when precious faces who need things that I haul away come to mind or mailbox, I will see my own chocolate brown-eyed boy on that page and say yes.
Peace of Christ to you,

This Is How It Should Be

I sit with only the gentle in and outs of their breathing down the hall. They rest and I work.

This is how it should be.

I feel like I was away for so long, missing these tiny wonders of deep, slumber breathing; the dipping of toes in fresh, blue waters; ice cream sandwiched noses; glass jarred fireflies; princess story times; towers tumbling on the rug; snuggles under fluff.

This is how it should be.

The dog's tongue covers chin to forehead on the baby and he squeals. The oldest makes gibberish noises in the baby's face since only he can squeeze out those giggles. The rocking chair sighs with each peak and fall as the rain spills from the eaves and sprinkles my face. My God is near, in the sudden flooding of cool, in the smothering of heat on the smoking, burnt ground. He reminds me that He always has been near and that I have needed Him all along--that I need Him still now. I call the names of the blessings He's dressed me with, starting with those three joy-makers and all their dimples. I have been recaptured by love itself, and this is how it should be.

Peace of Christ to you,