Tuesday, March 7, 2017

life::an outtake.

I've been trying to make a habit of making the mornings I get up early for a run to capitalize on the time between the run and shower for myself. Instead of getting a head start on packing lunches or folding a dryer full of laundry, I'm choosing to spend those 20 minutes writing - either in my prayer journal or writing journal (both of which are far too empty), reading a short devotional, or just in quiet prayer in a dark and still house. This morning, I read a daily devotion from Jesus Calling, then about 2 sentences in to my prayer journaling, I had a sweet little boy appear at the bottom of the steps. He was wearing his t-shirt from yesterday and a diaper with no pants - the way we sometimes put our kids to bed to simplify just one piece of the chaos that is bedtime for 3 young children. 
Psalm 63:7-8
Because you are my help,
    I sing in the shadow of your wings.
I cling to you;
    your right hand upholds me.
I patted the cushion next to me on the couch, and he scurried over and climbed up next to me. And leaned in. It was approximately a quarter 'til 6, and still dark everywhere in the house, except for the lamp lighting the room where we sat. I kissed his head. He just sat there in silence, sniffing the corners of his muslin blanket, staring off into the dark hall and kitchen in front of us. I quietly continued my thoughts on paper, feeling especially content with his 3-year-old body snuggled against me, and the few of his pre-boyhood, still cute little feet barely hanging over the edge of the cushion.

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