I can't believe it's been four weeks since Aunt Jean died. God gave good in the midst of the very, very hard, and I don't want one particular gift to slip by.
One of our kids' cousins wasn't able to get to Denver until the rest of us had been there for a couple of days. When Diane arrived, she kindly brought a gift for our granddaughter, Brielle. That hat she'd made fit Brielle perfectly and couldn't have been a sweeter surprise for Brielle's mom, Anna, who loves owls.
As we wiled away time in the hotel room the following afternoon while funeral arrangements were underway, the 7-month-old, who was wearing her new hat, sat on the bed with her mama exploring her own reflection in a mirror for the very first time.
(Forgive the dirty mirror--this was a real-life moment, not some set-up photo shoot. We didn't have any Windex nearby to clean off the slobber.)
And finally after about an hour of happy exploration, Brielle grabbed her hat, gave it a good tug or two and yanked it off. Her mommy said taking a hat off on her own was a motor-skill milestone.
Wasn't God so very kind to give us the gift of baby wonder in the midst of our grief?