Mornings with kids. What will we remember? The messes? The faces and tables that constantly need wiping? The beds that always need to be made? I think we will remember those faces, but we will remember the sweet smiles, the dimples, the bright blue eyes and how they sparkled at three. I think we will remember the lovely cacophony of littles laughing and crying, looking to us to meet their every need, until one day they don’t. The countless evenings we tucked those sweet bodies into those beds needing to be made.
I got to spend the morning in the Sackett’s home with their three adorable girls. It was a sweet time full of normal moments- moments of interaction and relationship that will be over before they know it. They are in the thick of it. In the weeds with three young kids. And they are doing it well, full of intention and love and grace and truth. I remember how crazy it feels to be in the midst of it. But it is also full and sacred and amazing and rich. And telling that story is one of my very favorite things to do.