Whisperings

I heard their whisperings at the top of the stairs. We had just cleaned up from dinner and were headed to bath, just enough ahead of me to plot something. I stopped for just a minute to give them ample time to plan their surprise. I made sure my feet fell loudly on the last two stairs.

“BOO!!” they screamed jumping out from around the corner as I stepped up the last stair.

“Ah!” I said.

“Did we get you, Mama?” the six-year-old asked eyes gleaming.

“You got me,” I said smiling back.

I’m not sure when this game started, but it’s become a nightly tradition as we make our way to the bath. Two people hiding waiting for the other person to round a corner or come through a doorway. It always fills the air with giggles and joy.

Sometimes it’s those whisperings that draw me out of the hopelessness that comes from living in a world with so many pain. Sometimes it’s those whisperings that draw us back to joy that rekindles our hope. Sometimes it’s those whisperings that remind us that living and lifing is only possible when we do it together.

Sometimes it’s those whisperings that give us the respite we need to take a breath and find our center again.

Thanks be to God for whisperings at the top of stairs right before bath time.