Thunder is rumbling a deep moan in the near distance while a web of lightening spreads across the sky, dances in the horizon.
An early morning thunderstorm lulls a snugly toddler back into slumber, and I quiet, creak, sneak out of bed at the beckoning of a preschooler's loud whisper of hunger and subsequent grumbling from his small stomach.
Holding my hand, he all but drags me out of my room and down the stairs.
We talk thunder. We talk rain. We talk lightening on the way down in hushed voices.
Heading toward the kitchen, I try to talk breakfast while pulling out the rolled oats, but he instead pulls me over to the big red rocking chair in the living room.
"I think I need mommy snuggles more than my tummy wants breakfast," he says through an overzealous whisper. "I think we better snuggle instead."
And so it waits, breakfast, uncooked atop the stove, because willing preschool arms and hearts don't.
Have you caught a glimpse of the bigger picture through a simple moment? Share with us at Melissa's today, and then encourage others on the journey of intentional living.