I submerged myself into the hot water of my awaiting bath, and immediately I felt everything melt away. Thank you Lord for hot water! And I leaned back, slipping deeper into the tub.
“Hey Momma!” My precious, precocious toddler grinned a gap-toothed, mischievous smile.
Then she pushed a large bottle of shampoo off the side of the bathtub, and it landed painfully on my shin.
“Sorry Momma!” She beamed.
My husband came into the small, steam-filled room then. “Come on baby. Let your Momma relax.”
As she toddled out the door following after her dad I sunk deeper into the hot bath, and I sighed contentedly.
It was the little things.
As I finished my soak, and later as I applied my make-up with the door closed, and nary a child in sight, I thought it again.
Why just that morning the baby had awoken earlier than usual. My eyes had burned like fire at the cruel request that they open fully, and I begged that child to go back to sleep. But to no avail.
And just as I had surrendered to the fact that sleep would be no more her father took her. He was taking our eldest daughter to school, and I thought I might just faint with relief when he grabbed our youngest babe to accompany.
It was just a little thing. One more hour of sleep. But as I lay there under the warm blankets and drifted back to dreamland it was the grandest feeling ever.
It was the little things after all.
Little things like dinner being made. Every Sunday night when I come home, without fail, he has dinner prepared for me. And while it’s usually just a frozen pizza, it’s piping hot when I sit in my chair. He brings it to me on a real plate, and I feel taken care of after a long day.
It’s the little things like this that he does to make me feel special.
There’s big things that are so very important, and I never forget how hard he works, how he provides for his family. I appreciate that he’s a faithful husband, that I never doubt his eyes are fixed on me. And I thank The Lord daily for the strength my husband shows as a good Christian man, full of values that he passes to his children, and actions everywhere that prove his heart for God.
Those things are wonderful, but it’s the little things that show me that he cares. The minuscule instances that one could almost overlook, but that collectively point to the selfless groom that stands stoically at my side. Stoically wiping baby butts and doing dishes when I need a hand.
The bathroom solitude only lasted so long. He’s not a miracle worker you know. But as children swirled around my feet, an endless sea of “whys” and “love you mommas,” he came in smiling.
Before he could leave I said, “wait,” and I covered his chest with my grateful embrace.
“Thank you.” I said. “It’s the little things.”
And I shared my heart as we shared an embrace. I told him that the big things were good, but it was the mundane, small stuff that made me feel special, that made me know without a shadow of a doubt how much he cared.
He said, “thank you,” and those big words said so much. But it was the little squeeze he gave me as we hugged that told me he had felt my words. That little squeeze said more than words ever could.
After all, it’s the little things.
ruthiespage says
You are so right
Denise says
You made me cry. It’s been a rough couple of weeks care-giving my mom who has medical issues, and then there are the ” 2 sister issues” that continue to surface. It’s so difficult to take the verbal abuse for doing the “little things” and “big things” that I know I am called to do for mom…despite the constant rude remarks. And then there’s the “little things” that others do for me that mean so much too.
So true, so true. And the difference that we can make in the life of another is huge from just a “little thing”. Hugs to you, Brie.
Denise
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much. Praying for you and your mom.