The Big Boys are of the habit of waking up before the crack of dawn and then promptly arrive in our room with an incredible burst of energy. We try to convince them to crawl into bed with us and then lay still (no small task for a couple of 2 and 4 year old boys, right?).
This morning started like that. Only I noticed that Gus was rather still and quiet, for once. I opened my eyes and found he'd actually fallen asleep on the crook of my arm.
Lately I find myself sinning in anger against my child more often than I care to truly admit. I pray that God will protect his heart, soul, & mind where I've wounded him with my words and wrath.
So this morning was special. With his little body sleeping serenely, his head on my shoulder, the breath of life rising and falling in his chest and letting out little sleepy sighs.
And I smiled. I soaked him into my core. I burned this into my memory. And I loved him as if it were the first moment I laid eyes on him.
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