I was tired and my head was throbbing. I was ushering kids to bed and uttering the “brush your teeth and get your jammies on” mantra. I glanced over and saw my 8 year old son sprawled across the chest of my husband who lay on the couch. Both were sound asleep and snoring. One strong arm protectively was cradling the growing boy who looked like a little tot in his slumber. A smattering of freckles glowed softly in the gentle light cast from the hallway and his still damp hair was in disarray. But upon first glance I missed this fact in the moment. All I saw was a child STILL not in bed.
I woke my husband and asked him to carry this sleeping boy into bed and moved off to find the girls and see why they were still rattling around long after bedtime. I carried a load of laundry to the washer, picked up a few more stray dishes and let the dog out as he silently lay by the front door waiting for someone to finally notice him.
I walked back into the room and again woke my husband and asked him to take our son to bed. This time I was a bit more – well – irritated. I didn’t mean to be, but I was. He simply said, “I will,” and didn’t show any signs of moving an inch. I gave a loud sigh. See, I missed the moment that mattered. But Derek didn’t. And HE wasn’t going to miss it because I was tired and in a hurry.
He looked down at the sleeping boy and whispered that he doesn’t get these moments much any more. This little boy doesn’t crawl up in his arms and fall asleep as often as he used to, and in my husband’s third-shift working nights, he isn’t there for the times when Drake gets scared and finds his way into our bed still. I guess I didn’t even realize my husband treasured those nights our son climbed into our bed and lay sprawled between us, taking up way more space than both of us combined. Derek quietly added that he was going to take the moment while he could, and enjoy it.
Oh. Wow. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Yeah, he was so right. I sat down on the floor beside them both and began to count my blessings. Not the big ones, not the huge ones… not the ones everyone says… but the little ones, like freshly washed freckles and the love of my husband for his son. Wait… maybe those ARE the big ones…
It’s the little moments that matter. In the end, there may be big days in our lives, big events, huge marks on our timeline that will seem to be the ones that count… but in the end? The ones that matter? It’s the ones that sneak up on you, snuggle in your arm, and softly sleep that will capture your heart and matter forever.
Don’t get too busy in the holiday rush to cherish the smiles, the hugs, the laughter, the tears. Share the moments with those that count the most in your life, and make those seemingly insignificant times count. You’ll be glad later.
At the end of today, I can honestly say that none of the laundry or dishes that I did mattered as much as the few minutes I sat on the floor in front of my two favorite guys and took in the many blessings God gave me when He bestowed them upon my life.
Don’t get me wrong. We have our moments, and often they are really hard moments, but every single one of them are ones that matter.