Yogurt Hands

 Thank you for yogurt hands. 

Thank you for the little life, the sapling that I am watching grow into a forest. And he will grow into a forest, with all the watering and care being poured into him. 

Thank you for the moments of toddler screaming that revealed ugly parts of me, that revealed just how fleshly and impatient my existence still is.

Thank you for the tears in trying to rock a crying baby to sleep, reaching out for You not out of holiness or devotion but out of desperation.

Thank you for interuptions that prove holiness isn't just reserved for churches or quiet contemplation. Thank you for every second of self-sacrifice and my will examined and set aside. 

Thank you for the pace of slow learning and play.

Thank you for the deep breath and release of frustration as loving hands smear yogurt over my sweatshirt. Thank you for the moments of twirling around the kitchen with his little head on my chest that show me Your heart for us, that show me the meaning of life. 

Thank you for mercy and grace, for every mistake, for every selfish emotion 

Thank you for almond butter mouths wiped on walls, showing that cleanliness is not next to Godliness and we have lost Your priorities. 

I have been given a sliver of what raising a child is and it has changed me.  I am being filled and emptied over and over in new ways and it is convicting and kind. 

Thank you for yogurt hands. 

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