I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on
makeup for the day. Caleb, ever the
grumpy early-riser, was “sleeping” on my pajamas piled on the floor and rubbing
the stubble of my unshaven leg. “Mommy,
you need to take a deep breath. Take a
deep breath NOW.”
I obliged, making more of a sigh than a deep breath.
“No, Mommy.
Louder. Take a louder deep
breath.”
For a second time, I sucked the air into my lungs and blew it out through my pursed lips,
exaggerating the noise to satisfy the child on the floor. It is funny, though, deep breaths really do
clean and calm the soul…even when they are forced. “Do you think I need to calm down, honey?”
He nodded, and mumbled some jumbled, indistinguishable words…and
then, “Mommy, you just need to trust God.”
Oh, little one, if you only knew.
God’s still, small voice, concealed in the murmurs of a four-year-old who
got up too early.
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