click.

 “He sure is a lively one, isn’t he?”

The little guy flashes his dimples, as if he knows exactly what gained him freedom from the pew.

I set him down in the narthex. He drags his blanket cheerfully as he runs from me.

My four year old is at my side. He was not being naughty in church, but I know better than to trust him in the pew while I am out with the baby. He is also lively.

Baby has discovered the heaters, and opens the control panel.  His dimples dare me to stop him.

Pretty sure his little hands are not strong enough to turn the knobs, I stay seated. I close my eyes, a little, and try to catch a word or two of the sermon.

 My four year old does not. He decides to climb the scaffolding. Baby sees, squeals, and runs with his blanket to join him. He trips, cries. Big kid swings and laughs. They are SO loud.

FINE.

We go outside.

Of course, they don’t want to run outside. It’s dark, and a little “creepy,” says my son.

Actually, the evening is gorgeous. A spring breeze passes over us, and stars twinkle above us. The night is as calm and soothing as I wish my boys were.

The temperature is warm enough to taste like spring, but just cool enough that I would be chilled without somebody in my arms.

I sit with my little somebody, and his blanket, on the cool cement steps.

My climber no longer wishes to climb. He’s cold, and a little scared. He sits on the other side of me, and leans into me. The baby sees his big brother snuggling, and smiles. He reaches with his tiny hand and pats his brother’s head. Brother is flattered and happy, and they both snuggle closer.

Warm, calm, like the night, they snuggle into me.

I breathe them in, grateful.

I exhale.

The moment is gone.

The tiny hand has decided his brother’s head makes a great drum. Brother thinks it is funny, too. Baby grabs brother’s lip, brother softly bites, and they share a slobbery laugh.

I roll my eyes and smile as I gently scoot them off my lap.

You don’t understand, but you gave me the still photo I needed. 


I capture things when I breathe them in, and I have stored that sweet breath of grace in my heart.

You can go play, now, little ones.

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Remember last week when my sister shared her awesome post "Scatter the Darkness?"
I am pleased to announce that she has started her own blog!

She takes my breath away...or is it God's work in her?  Yes, that too.

See what I mean: visit her blog Scatter My Darkness today!