I didn’t get a chance to pray this morning.

Instead I woke to an excited little face lisping in my ear, “Momma, come on!! Let’s go see what the tooth fairy left!”

I couldn’t help smiling.

I followed him out the bedroom door but paused for just a moment to take in the sight of my teenagers asleep on their bunk. Gosh, they were thrilled to get that rickety bunkbed and begin sharing a room all those years ago. I thought of them taking turns jumping from the top or reading by the dim glow of their booklights. The sound of their giggles long after dark is etched forever into my heart.

“Thank you,” I breathed silently as I headed down the stairs.

I found my toothless little boy in the kitchen beaming over the two dollars he found under the cup where he’d left his tooth. Then we played about a million rounds of Guess Who as I tried hard to memorize the sound of his laugh.

Gratitude hung in the air all around me.

More sleepy little heads trickled down one by one, and I eventually left the table to make breakfast as my teenager took over the game. They teased and giggled and laughed. He let his little brother win. They changed the rules to play their own version. And I realized for just a few minutes these two (who can be like oil and water) were getting along. Laughing and loving. Brothers to the core after all.

I just stared. So grateful for the moment.

Then after breakfast all the big kids took turns tossing cereal into each other’s mouths. Over the table. Two at a time. “How far apart can we get???” The kitchen was wild and crazy and chaotic as all those cereal crumbs went flying.

My husband came down to say, “Geez. What are you guys laughing about down here??” And I thought for a minute how beautiful it all was. The best morning I’ve had in a while.

“I love days like this,” I whispered under my breath.

It was 10:30 or so before everyone settled into the couch for cartoons and I headed out for a run. And it was then I realized, as I popped my earbuds into my ears…I’d forgotten to get up and pray.

But I don’t think it matters, really.

I don’t think He’s keeping track, and I just don’t think He’s keeping score.

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ I felt Him pressing into me.

‘I was right there with you in ALL those holy, ordinary moments. I love you…and I know every single beat of your gratitude-filled heart.’