I fill my eyes with this sleeping son. Kneel before Him in awe of this gift.
Many times he teeters on the edge…
Between this waking world and that of the dreams.
Always at these times, his heart is open. He gives me sleepy words of love.
There is this from the other night:
“Mom, I never got to tell you how important you are in my life…that’s because I don’t have the words to describe it. It would take too long to tell you all the bests you are…I couldn’t live long enough to say all the bests you are. Even when I’m mad at you I know deep down in my heart that you are the best mommy in the world…”
I call it pillow talk. These sweet words youngest son utters to me in the dark.
Eyes heavy with sleep…speech slightly weighted…
These sweet words linger.
And while his heart is open this way, I too lift up words. Carry them gently from my mouth to heaven, and feel them drift into this open place—into this tender heart that now drifts between two worlds.
His pillow talk invites my pillow prayer.
And I wonder what words my Father lifts into my heart as my eyes drift into that sleeping land…
I know He never sleeps. (Psalm 121:4)
I know He sings over me. (Zep. 3:17)
I know his love is unfailing. (Psalm 36:7)
By day I try. Do my best to hide His Word in my heart. At night, does He tuck it in deeper?
He reaches down from heaven and touches me. Caresses my sleeping brow.
And I know that, truly, He is the best Father.
I cannot live long enough to say all the bests He is.
I’m a morning person and happiest in a place with no walls. Give me a bed of grass and a blanket-sky and I will dream deep in wonder. But a good story takes me to this place too. And a poem? Even better. You can always find me here. Or connect with me on on facebook, twitter, or pinterest.