Snapshot.

I see a perfectly perched pair of Beauty and the Beast dress up high heels on a step stool next to the sink, a spiderman towel hung sloppily on a hook, and pancake syrup drizzled across the dining room table.

I take a step and hear the crackle of syrup sticking to the bottom of my high heel.
I stealthily steal a maple kiss from my little girl and wriggle my fingers through my son's 'just woke up' hair.

Pillows piled high in my little girl's bedroom, the remnants of a pillow fortress she builds each night to nestle into. Her cheery room is no reflection of her morning mood. She's a cuddler by night, a grumpalufaguss by morning...

My son's bedroom - which looks more like a perfect replica of our solar system - smells just like him. Scrumptious, musky boy. His cork board displays his latest masterpieces, which are pretty good - frameable even. He's much softer in the morning than his knobby knees and elbows appear. His squishy, warm ears plead to be squeezed on his way out the door.

They groggily rummage through their shoes, and jackets, and hairbows as we charge through our morning, preparing for another big day.

Everything in our home begs us to stay, cozily soaking each other in, all day long.
But life keeps calling us to our many different directions.

I can't wait for this evening when we can all be together again!
Until then, Lord, be with them and keep them.