While people hustled and bustled to get ready for church I snuggled with my four year old son.
While people were wrestling their children in church my little girl slept in my arms.
While she slept I silently watched my six year old son, the super hero, act out his own comic book.
While he wanted me to take pictures of him he also knew his baby sister needed rest to fight off her cold germies.
While I wanted him to get my camera so I could somehow capture the magical moment of my child wistfully sleeping in my arms, she woke up every time I moved.
While she snoozed so warm, so soft, so peaceful, her brothers played together. No fighting, no arguing. Working together to achieve common goals.
While she was sleeping my heart nearly burst. One of those motherly moments that words cannot adequately express.
While my children were so content I thought of their dad. I thought of how much I love him. How much he loves me and our children. How sorry I was he was sitting alone at church while we experienced utopia, if only for a moment.
While the dirty dishes sat untouched I kissed my baby.
While the world went on with its busyness my world stopped long enough for me to drink in the magic of the morning:
The soft music playing in the background. The occasional little boy giggle. The whirring of their imaginations. The smell of clean hair. The soft touch of tiny fingers holding my own. Warmth, not from the bright pink polar fleece blanket, but from her small body snuggled on my lap.
While I wished my children didn’t have to be ill, feel discomfort or pain, I was forever grateful to have them all to myself feeling so blessed to simply hold them.
While you were in church learning of the love our Heavenly Father has for us, feeling His spirit testify of truth, I too felt that same spirit enveloping me with such love.