Blessed

It’s one hundred different little things.

It’s folding a tiny shirt. It's feeling that soft cheek pressed against mine. It’s using the church nursery. It’s washing bottles and little spoons. Today it was this:

The sight of those little shoes, carelessly thrown on the table; made my heart stop. It’s one hundred different little things.

It's these little things that squeeze my heart and tell me… You get to be a Mom. You get to be HIS Mom. And every time, in one hundred different ways, my heart feels full. And I feel JOY.

And I know, in one hundred different ways, that I am blessed.