My bare feet creak along the old hardwood floor, while I open windows to let an evening breeze blow through this old house. Little girls lie quietly underneath their white sheets, as the lace curtains flap in the warm air. In a hushed awe I sit on my three year old's bed, smoothing the hair out of her eyes. My heart so grateful for the three gifts wrapped up in snuggly, tiny selves our family has been given.
A couple of weeks ago we drove down the old back roads that I drove on as a teenager. We headed towards the city and for the third time in my life, I knew that soon, we would welcome another little life into our home. I wondered if the same curves and juts in the road will be familiar to my children? Would they know the feel of these gravel roads beneath their feet? Would these pastures look the same? Will this country tug at their hearts? In low whispers I offered my thanks.
Here we are, a family of five, and I think back to the course my life has taken and I'm still boggled by what a miracle it is that we are exactly where we are today. And I'm ever grateful for the small things. For those tiny, long sweet fingers that grasp my one, for the smell of freshly laundered onesies, and grass stains on little blue jeans. I'm heartsick grateful to be here, to be exactly here in this time, to have four hands smaller than my own to help bathe baby brother. I'm grateful for the sound of baby snuffles in the night and for the moon that shines through his window while feeding someone who has hardly known what sunshine is for two weeks. I am overwhelmed with the big girl holding a swaddled up boy, while the middle one snuggles onto my lap and we all cram into one bed to read bedtime stories, our bodies stuck together in the heat. While my sandals pad along the dusty road, beneath the hot August canvas of blue, with a babe nestled close to my body and wild girls ride their bikes each step is filled with gratitude and days pass.
I realize it is these small things, they are the moments that are making up my life, my story, and they are my heart's song.
He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.