“For who has despised the day of small things?” Zechariah 4:10
My precious grandgirls: Hannah’s smile. Emma’s voice on the phone.
Ken bringing me coffee while I’m still trying to will myself out of bed.
My three daughters and I sharing a girls’ day out, laughing as we try to squeeze ourselves and our bundles of clothes into one dressing room.
My older son cradling his firstborn child.
My younger son lifting me in the air and twirling me around in a pretend dance.
A veil of confusion parts and a student’s eyes reflect a new understanding.
The crisp air of a just-born morning, like stepping into nature’s refrigerator.
The hand of a friend, patting my shoulder during a time she feels the waves of my sadness wash over her.
Falling asleep in Ken’s arms.
Praying in God’s.
Knowing I’m a child of a loving Father. I’m sometimes petulant, self-involved, afraid, confused, demanding.
But always loved.
Always, always…all ways.
Grateful for our Lord being so fully great.
Photo credit: Christa Allan
Beautiful, Christa.
And amen. Thank you for this, Christa. I needed that.
Precious are those small moments. You make me stop to think how much I have to be thankful for, too. And the sweet voices of grandchildren are something you want to capture to pull out once they’re grown and listen to again. π
Thanks, ladies, for sharing yourselves today. Another special moment!