Thursday, October 15, 2015

Night Night

Sometimes the voice of God is a little girl singing to herself in her crib.

I experience this most nights when I take Coffeedaughter to bed. Clutching her favorite blanket close, she places her head on my shoulder on the way up the stairs. This after almost leaping into my arms when I say it's "night-night time."

I place her in her crib, where first she crouches down surrounded by her blankets and stuffed animals while I check to make sure that no cats will be stuck in the room when I close the door. She then stands up, indicating that she wants a hug. If I approach, she might squat back down. It's a game to keep me in the room, you see.

She may eventually want a hug and kiss, or she might keep playing. After I figure out which, I'll make my way to the door, saying "night night" on the way. I'll be followed out of the room by her own "night night" and "bye bye."

After the door is shut, she'll keep talking for a while. Sometimes she'll call out, sometimes she'll sing.

And I just listen, because God is present in that curious, feisty little form, and in that babbly voice wanting to share with the world all that she's discovering.

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