Husband’s out of town. I’m holding down the fort.
Camden’s running fever. Tucking him in to bed, my weary mom cheek to his warm forehead, I pray for his comfort and healing.
The setting sun and rolling in of night hasn’t dampened Caleb’s lively spirit. Lego construction is in full force. Offering enticement to close his eyes, I agree to him falling asleep with me.
Crawling into bed. Exhausted. It’s late. Too late, really.
Another day ending.
Darkness prevents seeing with the eyes but not hearing with the heart.
Mommy, you should have seen the sunset today.
There were so many beautiful colors.
I almost came inside to get you.
But you were busy.
In the midst of a seemingly colorless strand of chores, a young boy discovered a sky painting.
One viewing only the pale tasks set before her.
The child’s eyes are opened to a celestial kaleidoscope.
One sees gray.
The boy uncovers the firmament adorned.
A grateful heart closing the book on another day.
Words of gratitude sprinkling the dark night with stars of grace.
I’m thankful I got to see the sunset, mommy.
And I’m going to write that in my joy journal.
Thank you for making homemade fish sticks tonight.
I’m writing that in my journal, too.
And the ice cream cookies.
His joy journal.
I’d forgotten. Mine untouched for days. Weeks.
Caleb, I don’t want to miss another painted sky.
Please, come get me next time.
So I can enjoy it with you.
A young smile felt through a warm snuggle. Then soft snores.
And probably Lego dreams.
I am thankful.
Regardless of a sink full of dishes, a laundry list of untouched chores, and a teenager with fever.
I embrace the giving of thanks.
“I want to see beauty. In the ugly, in the sink, in the suffering, in the daily, in all the days before I die, the moments before I sleep.”
― Ann Voskamp
For more inspiration to embrace thanks living and discover painted skies…