The good, the hopeful part

This morning it was just SaraRose and me.

For a mother who has very few moments alone with her little girl, to me, each one is sacred.
This is the first time we've gone out, just the two of us, in two months.
As I breathed in the fresh air with her little hand in mine, my heart could hardly take in the gladness the simple act of running an errand brought me.
We got in the car and SaraRose quickly said "Turn it up, I like this song!" as she lifted her arms and (very cutely) acted out playing a tiny violin along along with the intro.

And as we drove, I too was drawn into the beautiful melody and calming words. I smiled brightly as my little one sang along loudly from the back seat.
"I want to hear it again!" she said, and so did I. So I hit repeat, and we both sang along over and over again.
I don't know if there is much sweeter than looking in the rear view mirror to see a tiny little mouth singing about the deep, deep love of Jesus. And watching a chubby toddler hand raised in praise as she copies what her mommy's doing in the front seat.
And, heck, there is not much better than singing praises to Him for that deep, deep love yourself.

Regardless of what the truck driver next to you thinks. ;)

When life takes a jagged turn and to your story is added chapters you never wished for, it's hard to take for granted those perfect moments when your story looks just like (or even better) than you imagined it would.
And as we got out of the car, I sent a prayer into the blue sky that there would be more, many more glimpses into the good, the hopeful part of my story.