In the Quiet
I love flowers. I love the way they smell, the way they bloom – the silent unfurling of fragrance and color. Some of the best things in life happen slowly, quietly, with little fanfare. Like the way I fell in love with my husband over months of phone calls, long drives, and twilight walks. There was a gentle revealing of deeper layers, a gradual intertwining of hearts, until one day I realized I never wanted to say goodbye. And years later, the growth of new life inside me. Little bodies being knit together in the quiet dark. Secret forming of souls and personalities, beautiful girls who will grow to be women full of purpose and passion. The other day while we were running errands, my preschooler asked from the back seat, “Mom, what did Jesus do with my sins?”...
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It happened again. This time it was the tip of the stylus we use with our tablet. Tooth marks and a chunk missing and a guilty looking preschooler. She destroyed another just last week. And bit a hole in a pretzel bag, letting salt and crumbs pour all over the back seat of the car. And shredded part of her blankie, and took the corner off a book, and left indentations in her stuffed monkey’s eye… It’s like living with a puppy. Or maybe a dinosaur. Our oldest outgrew putting things in her mouth very early on, but this one is still at it at almost three and a half. We’re starting to wonder if it will ever stop. This is a child who MUST experience everything with all of her senses. It’s not enough to touch something with her fingers; she has to chew on it to get...
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