The Holy Moment

Presence.

It's all about presence.

Recently, I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream. In it, my grandbaby Ainsley was falling. I woke up to catch her. It jolted me awake. It felt so real. It was hard getting back to sleep, but I fell asleep just keeping my heart wrapped around hers. She's only 2 1/2.

The next morning I got a text from my daughter that Ainsley was home sick. I went over to help with all three kids and spent the morning snuggling her. She's usually a butterfly kind of girl, flitting about, or an Energizer Bunny, too fast to pin down for too long of a hug.
But this day, all she wanted to do was sit in my lap and be loved. Oh, what a sweet task.

She was sitting on my lap in a tall chair at the kitchen counter eating raspberries and banana bread with her brother, when all the sudden, she threw up. All over me. All over my lap and legs and arm.

But I've got to say, it was the calmest, most beautiful moment of presence. It actually felt holy. I just held her on my lap, stroked her back and let her vomit. I gently explained what was happening as her mom got paper towels and cleaned it up.

Then I got to carry Ainsley to bed and tuck her in. She slept for hours and woke up "all better."

Sometimes all we're asked to do in life is show up. No plans. No agenda. Just be there for whatever life hands us. And when we are present, we can experience the pure beauty of life, even in the messiness of it.

Because life is messy. It is one, big, beautiful, mess.