Ah, New Years

Here it is again - a new year! I am fond of them, reminding me as they do of a brand new journal with perfect white pages, waiting for my thoughts to be scrawled across them.

As I write, my poor husband sleeps (hopefully well) in the guest room, hoping to shield me from illness. The baby is tucked in to (where else?) our bed, having already bested the illness this week. I am the lone survivor, trusting my hearty immune system and fearless attitude to keep me safe. I pray to God it does, as there's no one to care for us if we all go down!

My word for the year is order. After living here for nearly two and a half years, I realize that I have been putting up with systems that don't work - still stuffing things into closets that don't fit, shuffling clutter from one space to another. And for what! Right before Christmas, I had a burst of energy wherein I organized our cabinets and junk drawer - and what peace of mind it gives me!

But in a larger sense, I crave order in terms of the fitness of things: greater things having greater weight, and all that. What good is it to go to bed being up on all the news that doesn't effect me, when I haven't done any of the work entrusted to me? I am infinitely capable of wasting time on truly worthwhile things (an ardent reader's best talent and worst vice, I believe), but I want to stop wasting time as much as possible.

This new year brings many things with it, including the realization that the time is drawing close when we had discussed trying again. Trying for what? A baby, of course, one of the few things I can want but not demand. Now it's here and suddenly I feel so hesitant - me of the perpetual baby fever! It would be fine spacing, for sure, and every bit of my pregnancy and labor went smoothly last time. Yet now I'm here and I find myself wondering, wondering. Going from just two to the big three felt so natural, so easy - one day we were two, the next day waiting on three, the next here she was, and we've been thrilled ever since. But every baby's a gamble - every new little soul asking for love you must give, even when it hurts to give it. Everything went so perfectly the first time, I find myself wondering - how could we ever get so lucky again?

I know it's not the point - perfection, in a family, doesn't mean everyone healthy or normal or well-behaved. It means love, to the greatest measure, given unconditionally. I know that - but I'm still learning it too, y'know? First time mom, etc. etc.

Where does this leave our adoption plans…I'm not sure. We're still praying and discerning. I have more questions than when I started, ironically, more fears and concerns. There's a lot up in the air…I'm hoping to get some answers soon. But I have a feeling this will always be part of our discernment of our vocation, part of our discerning openness to life.

I've so enjoyed reading all of your anticipations for fresh starts. I hope the year pans out even better than we all hope.

A pictureless post brought to you from my picture less work computer!