I was sitting in church on Sunday. I was listening to the sermon. Really. And this adorable baby girl caught my eye. She must have been about three or four months old. Her dad had just lifted her out of her car seat. Maybe it was the fact that she was being held. Or maybe that she had a new perspective on things. Whatever it was it made her the happiest baby. She had dark hair. Lots of it. And it stood straight up. And she smiled. The kind of smile that melts your heart. I like to think she was smiling at me. Who knows?
This made me think of Gracie as a baby in church. She would coo and smile to anyone around us. My mom would hold her. I'm pretty sure that my mom wore bracelets every Sunday to keep Gracie entertained. Mom and I were almost always in church with Gracie by ourselves. Dad was there, but up front preaching. Scott was at home. Sleeping. He worked nights. And I thought of the sweet day that Gracie said the word "conoonya". What? I couldn't figure this one out. I spoke Gracie fluently and this word stumped me. Until I realized that she was saying the word communion while we were sitting in church. She wanted to go up to communion to see her Papa. I love that memory.
This made me remember our life then. Scott would get home at 6:00 a.m. and play with Gracie for a little bit and head to bed. Gracie and I would go about our day. Scott would get up around three. We would eat early. As I was cleaning up the kitchen, he would give Gracie a bath and we would read to her and play games with her. To bed she would go between 6:00 and 6:30. We would have some time to ourselves before Scott would go to work and the cycle would repeat.
That was a lot of routine back then. It had to be that way. I long for those days. We've been out of routine for a while. We're getting back into one. It just takes time. And willing participants. The three of us seem to be on board. I'll let you know how it goes. And then my thoughts went to a grateful place. A place that feels very content with my family sitting in church together. My brain must have been on overdrive during the sermon. I visited all of these memories in the time it took to listen to a sermon. And believe it or not, I think I got the message being preached to me, too. Amazing. And this train ride all started with the beautiful smile of a baby girl.