There is nothing better than those little spaces in time when I get out of my own way long enough to experience a pure and beatific glimpse of God. Those modest flashes of the merest sliver of the formation of my Heavenly Father.
This morning my little nugget ambled down the stairs to find me dressed and ready for the day. A little sleepy and full of kisses, he was still so warm from burrowing in the den of his blankets that his hug was like slipping on an electric snuggee (patent pending). It was so dark in the house that our German Shepherd's tail became an unfortunate casualty as I fumbled around to the Christmas tree and turned on the lights. And, for whatever reason this day, instead of rushing/shoving us headlong into the day, we cuddled up on the chaise under the white, purple, green and red lights. The house was so quiet that we naturally slipped into whispers as we looked at ornaments and my little nugget pointed out each and every one he had hung (and even some he will be tall enough to hang next year). He told me all about the angel that lives (if only for 6 weeks a year) at the top of our tree, and I told him about the job God had given her. How she announces every year that unto us is born a Savoir, who is Christ the Lord. He asked me silly questions and serious ones and ones that are typically and egocentrically 4 years old. I buried my nose in the little space at the back of his neck and kissed him until he made me stop (which gets shorter with every quickening day). We kept warm under his too small blanket and I covetously smelled in the last moments of baby boy in his hair before it naturally gives way the to the big boy kindergarten smells of paste, outside and (in lucky moments) laundry soap. I bit my tongue a little to keep all the rushing love from spilling out headlong into a good old-fashioned mommy cry. My little nugget is still sensitive to the changes in my voice, and I wanted every second of this little pause to be filled with sweet calm and quiet. I wanted him to rest and know the truth of being safe in my arms and acutely loved as we snuggled under his thread-bare crib blanket beneath the Christmas tree lights.
Our little snuggle only lasted 10 minutes or so until we began to add first one hungry brother and then another until eventually the chaise whimpered under our collective weight, and the dogs let us know that this snuggle-fest must come to a close. It was, indeed, time to get hopping. We had breakfast to make and play practice to jet off to and Christmas shopping to finish and library books to drop off and checks to be deposited and packages to be mailed and the cub scout swim party to rush to and friends coming in to play and and and.... BUT in those few fleeting moments I was crowded with the truth that I had just experienced with my own babies about one millionth, or more likely billioneth, of the love and care God has for His children...and I was blown away.
