The sunrise breaks through the last lingering bits of night, lighting the morning in soft pink clouds, just waiting. Waiting for someone to take notice of the beauty at the start of this day.
Am I going to notice in this rush of morning? Is there time for the stillness in the midst of breakfast and winter clothes and the rushing out to the school bus?
That stillness comes in the form of a little boy hand reaching for mine at the edge of the road as we wait.
"Mommy, look at all the colours, pink and purple and blue."
"It looks a bit like cotton candy doesn't it sweet boy?"
"Mommy? Can you lift me up to eat some?"
"It's to high bud, God put the clouds there this morning to remind us of His glory and the works of His hands."
"But why do they look so close then?"
I have no answer for this, so stumble out something along the lines of "because of the way the sun is reflecting off them." In an attempt not to brush off his question.
Grace abounds this morning, in the form of sun-kissed clouds and quiet, stolen moments with a little-big boy.