My baby sleeps soundly on my shoulder as I rock silently in the dark.
The moon glows dimly behind me; lighting the room just slightly enough to see the outline of the furniture and my husband’s profile as he dreams quietly on the bed… fully resting in spite of the noise in the next room.
I listen to six of my children laugh loudly during a game of “night tag” in the den. They know their daddy and I don’t mind the late night game they play together; we are simply happy our kids love each other so much. And since the oldest moved away to attend college in another state, the stark realization that they DO grow up and move out has become a reality.
I gently rock the baby and savor the sounds of merriment penetrating the walls.
We parent differently now. Slowly. Deliberately.
I savor these moments in our home. Our joy is sacred. It is not the average NORMAL. I ADORE my husband, and he me. Our children love each other. I KNOW we have something special.
I can feel the presence of the Lord in our home. It is not perfect, but it is Heaven on Earth to us and I treasure these days with my growing family…
Where joy, unity and contentment describe the air we breathe.
Sparks of love lit our marriage in the early days, but like most couples somewhere along the way those sparks turned into a forest fire that nearly burned the walls of our family to dust. Poor communication skills served as embers to keep the destructive flames lapping.
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