Pictures Are a Gift

Pictures are a gift. They’re silent. They don’t move. They don’t hit their siblings. It’s delightful.

I can see a picture and stop for a moment and sit in awe of the blessing of this life of mine—without the arguing or pooping or spilling cereal across the floor or kicking holes in the wall or getting calls from the principal or stealing candy or eye rolling or “but momming” or streaking or coloring on the walls or crying or…

But all of that isn’t the unfortunate byproduct of family. It is family.

The teaching and the forgiving and the healing—and the redemption in it all—is a privilege to be a part of. It’s a gift that I get to spend up my life teaching little minds, nurturing little souls, molding little hearts.

And all of the mess leads me to the same conclusion as the perfect picture: I am in awe of the blessing of this life of mine.