That moment this morning, after a handful of hard, tender-hearted days, when my bright, shining sixteen-year old found me praying fervently at the altar, and swooped down beside me, whispering into my ear, “Have I told you lately Mama, how much I love and appreciate you?”
Straight to my heart like an arrow to its target.
Softening me with her incomparable sweetness.
I purred: “Oh, thank you, my love. That is super helpful!”
She nuzzled in, and said, “Doesn’t my hair smell good, though?”
I inhaled deeply, helping myself to a generous whiff, and replied: “The best. Amazing.” She giggled then, pulling away.
These small, fleeting, precious intimacies. How they carry us.
This power we have to buoy one another with the tiniest gestures of grace and heart and word.
May we relish this power.
May we cradle this chance to bless one another.
May we open in the vulnerability of receiving another’s grace.
May we surprise ourselves continuously with our bold willingness to simply be love, to simply be loved.
Our tender receptivity to life’s undeniable beauty, in the midst of true challenge.
Our breathtaking resiliency in the face of it all.
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