Sometimes your morning doesn’t go according to plan.
So instead you gather up your blessing — the one who pads down stairs crying because she wants to cuddle.
You remember your swollen-belly prayers for a little one who loves to snuggle, and you hold her in your arms with her blankets and her giraffe pillow and her kitten puppet gathered up tight.
You stroke her soft, fine hair.
You release your plans to the day, receive the blessing that is in this moment with your girl, in the light from the stove, on the hardwood floor, while you wait for your coffee to brew.
You feel the Arms holding you as you hold her, and you say thank you.