The Still Small Voice

"Mommy, will you cuddle with me?"

Most mothers will tell you that those are their favorite words in the English language. Not me. I cringe when I hear that. Not outwardly, but it means I must do something I detest: Choose.

Dishes are piled up in the sink downstairs, the floor needs to be swept; I'm tired, worn out from being police, judge, playmate, chauffeur, doctor, you name it. I feel over done.

I really hate choosing. Because I want to get the chores done so I can snuggle on the couch with Hubby, have a sweet snack, or just read a bit before falling asleep with my clothes still on; anything, but it's "me" time. Even doing the chores every night I get to be alone and be in the quiet. Maybe even hear the still small voice of God calling my name.

The only problem is that the still small voice tells me that Princess will be 6 next month. She's growing up faster than I can see. Reading, writing, even doing math well above her age. While I am very very proud of what she has done, I don't get very much time with her. She'll be grown and gone before I know it. My time is so short, and if I don't grab it, I'll miss it.

These are the whispers I hear from the still small voice of God.

So I snuggled. Maybe not as long as she would have liked (she would prefer that I sleep with her all night every night), but I loved and kissed and hugged and told her I love her the yellowest. She is my sunshine and I think she is one of the cutest things in the whole world.

She went to sleep with a smile on her face; and that, my friends, is the still small voice of God, right there.

Go snuggle,
Bee