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It’s the little things, sometimes.

The ones that catch my breath.

Make it hard to take my eyes off her.

Show me a glimpse of what he’s going to be like in ten years.

It hits me hard, like a punch to the gut sometimes.

Usually when I’m not expecting it.

Because the days can roll by,

one after another, sometimes indistinguishable

sometimes filled with a million details and seemingly a hundred annoyances.

It’s too easy, for me at least, to get caught up,

swallowed whole by the chaos.

Too easy to get lost in the banter,

the day-to-day and the ordinary.

But when I step back and see all those little things,

framed together by a few hours of breathing room on a holiday,

I remember the truth,

that life is nothing if not one enormous ball of grace and blessing.

Grace that the people who are closest to us

that spend the most time with us

still want to talk with us.

Grace that who we often are is not what we are judged on.

Grace that we are loved in those big and small moments alike.

Blessing, because despite life’s sway,

through the rise and fall of the tides of a moment, a day, or longer,

our hearts are filled.

And not just because things could be so much worse,

but because things are so good.

Because all of those things that I’d dreamed of as a boy

are within these walls

are deep within my heart

Because I have the privilege to love those I hold so dear

And no matter which way the wind may blow

No matter how hard the waves may pound

I stand upon a Rock

And I am so thankful.

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