Abs

No one ever prepared me for little girls.

Before we had even said, “I do,” we acquired one of those cards with the name and meaning on it and I kept it in my bible.

It was a precious reminder to me that not only was I marrying this hunk from Youngstown but we were going to be a true-blue family.

Hi friends.

Web analytics tell me that Fridays between noon and four are the best time to send some encouragement to you all.

And though now between college and work schedules my home is mostly quietly clean I still head to Panera because I’m no quitter.

And because tea and cookies help me be the very best “me” that I can be.

I remember when the ultrasound tech slipped and let me know that “SHE” was growing and measuring just right on schedule.

Right around thanksgiving was a wonderful time to give thanks for another little one joining her 16 month-old brother.

With a boy and a girl we were the quintessential family.

And I still had not even one single solitary clue what on earth I was doing.

Good thing Abi has always been an old soul because she had more than her older brother to tend to, she had her Mom as well.

So very much like her Father it was surely a self-fulfilling prophecy that her name means, “Her Father’s joy,” but if that name card could have had a little subtitle to it, it would’ve read, “and her Mother’s comfort.”

The first child to get more than a heap of stitches without a blink, get vaccines without a tear and help her Mother comfort others with tiny scrapes and bruises making a much bigger deal about things.

Instinctively I reach for her in church to share a joy, as I wipe a tear, to harmonize, to enjoy a moving offertory and to just squeeze her because she is lovely inside and out.

One time at a conference someone took a picture of our family from behind showing each of us with arms unknowingly wrapped around each other.

If I have had any influence as a Mother, it’s been in the area of hugging.

I remember the joy that swept over me when I realized that we were “Tag-team” encouraging others at a ladies meeting I was asked to speak at.

She in her way and I in mine, just as her Father and I do.

It was magical and wonderfully sweet and made me so very grateful to have such a relationship with this oldest girl of mine.

These moments have been some of the most precious ones when I sit and think back on being a Mother to many.

One time she and a friend drove from college through the night just to join her Dad and I in her spot in the pew next to me out of town, holding my hand and helping me hold back the tears- needing her familiar calming presence which always comforts and always makes everything okay again.

When I was given the opportunity to speak to college girls where I myself once sat, it was Abi I wanted at my side. And at my side she was, not ten minutes from speaking, after driving in from out of town making it just in time. Just for me. Just for support.

She understands the weight of life for me when it matters most and she’s what I want to be when I grow up.

One time she, traveling in a group from school, went to the church where a college friend attends whom I haven’t had any contact with since college and when Abi came through the door she walked up to her and told her that she knew exactly who her mother was.

As sweet as that is, and as often as I have heard people tell me that she looks just like ME, I enjoy telling them, that I am twice blessed because though the outside is me the inside is completely her DAD.

And that makes me entirely happy.

She’s as smart as she is brave and she has a wonderful way of explaining any truth she finds in God’s Word.

She is beginning adulthood with a settled, rock-solid understanding of God’s love for her and it makes every hard fought battle for the same understanding in my own life worth it.

She doesn’t just head into a situation or challenge, she tackles it the the ground and does it with a smile and some neon-colored shoes.

One time we were ushering the kids into the living room downstairs because a hurricane had wiped out the power and we were starting a fire in the fireplace to keep everyone toasty.

I went to her room to bring her down with the rest of the kids and half asleep she was worried about getting treats to her youngest sister.

That’s Abi.

You don’t have to tell her it’s someone’s birthday, she already has their present on the way and she doesn’t go cheap.

Need to propose or get married? She’s there with “bells on” and super uncomfortable high heels, flying in from home to organize, decorate and then clean up more of her friend’s celebrations than I can count.

The wonderful thing is that though she pulls out all-the-stops for those she loves, she enjoys the simple things so she is so very easy to love on.

Ramen, toast and cheese sandwiches and bubble tea are her love language.

I adore going visiting with Abi because about the third door, okay maybe the tenth door, her boldness starts to rub off on me and I’m ready to ask someone about eternity.

The sidewalk pep talks are the best with her reminding me that “God has commanded us to go and He’s already out here working in hearts!”

She’s on her way to becoming who God has designed her to be and I just can’t get enough of her.

Who knew that this girl whose nose continually ran the first two years of her bald little life would be learning how to save lives?

Well, God did I suppose.

Abi, you are my hero.

You’ve saved me from running away more times than I can count.

I see you making wonderful decisions for the Lord.

Seeing your gigantic pink bible and notebook on the same chair every morning warms my heart.

Have I read some of your thoughts?

maybe.

Thank you for continuing to learn, to pray and to love absolutely everyone.

I smell the aftermath of you still burning eggs way too early in the morning for breakfast before work and appreciate how you act like every home cooked meal after a long shift is like a treat from Disneyland.

Thank you for always letting me use your chapstick and for having the perfumiest lotion in church so I can smell you a mile away.

Thank you for checking every mole and for reminding me that every breath is a “good breath,” when life completely takes my breath away.

Thank you for letting me cry into your shoulder when people leave the church and I can’t do anything about it.

Thank you for reminding me that it’s none of my business what others think of me.

Thank you for helping me encourage anyone we come in contact with, and celebrate everyone we love.

Thank you for always taking on “streamer duty” and tackling the challenge to hang cray paper from the ceiling.

Thank you for being so grateful every time I put a treat in your lunch, fold laundry, make you tea or send you some fun money.

Thank you for being the “mama bear” to your siblings even though they don’t all appreciate it all the time.

Thank you for all of the fun you’ve forced us into and the road trips to completely surprise people when we wonder if the whole lot of us will even be welcomed when we get there.

Thank you for listening to my fears without judgement and my burdens with compassion.

Thank you for getting your siblings to clean up after themselves when they’re near you.

Thank you for being the embodiment of the color yellow.

God is using you.

You are not behind or forgotten or on the slow route of life.

You are exactly where God wants you to be and you are my right hand.

You are the joy of your Father but you are also the joy of your Heavenly Father.

I’m so glad we have you on loan for a bit.