The older I get, the more sweetness I find in small things.
Someone handed me a little potted flower last night. She gave them out to a lot of a people, so it wasn't a gesture with a lot of premeditated consideration behind it, but I was still so blessed. Could be that it massaged my love language--Gifts--but I found a sweetness in receiving the modest plant all the same.
My husband left a short little note for me on the counter. I had to fix the electric fence that was obviously not working since my horse was sticking his entire head and neck through it, so I buzzed out there while they finished getting themselves off to school. I found it when I came back in, a silent testament to a love that sings out to me every single day. I put it inside my Bible.
Joey's coming back next week!!! College kids across America are going home for spring break. It's a common occurrence, nothing monumental, but for my motherheart--it's a sweet, sweet, sweet thang! I can't wait... I miss him so much. I miss his voice, his handsome face, his witty one-liners, the challenging conversations with his dad that I can't contribute to but love overhearing, the sight of him standing with his arms wide open and slightly bowed so I can just step in and be hugged. My son is coming back home. It's only for a week, and he'll be gone for a couple days of it even, but every morning he's here, I know I'll do the same thing I did every morning during Christmas break--wake up to the lovely whisper in my head, "Joey's in the house," smile, and think of what I can do to bless him that day... The sweet nearness of someone whose life you cherish... Thank You.
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