A Little Extra

It was a busy evening where I had multiple commitments all stacked atop one another after a full day of work, and lots of heavy feelings weighing me down. I was so hungry for some solitude and a good cry.

But my girl messaged me.

She had come home from a happy time at a friend's house, and in the first 10 minutes of being home everything had gone wrong, and her kind Papa had asked if she was okay.

"Okay?! Okay?!" she texted, "no, I am NOT okay!"

I don't always get it right. (I usually say the wrong thing that sends her upstairs to punch her pillow and scrawl furiously in her journal.) But God must have given me the right words because in a few moments she was in the driveway in my arms, and we drove out to Dairy Queen for a blizzard. Night had fallen and driving in the dark, even with a mouthful of ice cream, makes for good conversation.

When we got home, I had to get to work. Unprompted, she apologized to Papa for her storms, then pulled her chair into my room and we did our work side by side at my teensy desk.

"You are so precious to me," she said, leaning her head on my shoulder.

After a while, she went off to bed and I kept working. A few minutes ago I finally submitted my article, stood up, stretched, and noticed the two chairs at my desk. 

My heart overflowed.

My evening didn't go the way I'd expected, nor even the way I'd hoped.

It went, oddly, much better. 

I always crave ease or solitude when my heart hurts. But sometimes what it needs is a little shift of focus, a little extra tenderness, and a little extra ice cream.

Sweet dreams, friends.