It's foggy this morning. And rainy. And it's beautiful.
Mr. 5yo is still sick. Last night, he hit 102.8, and he doesn't do fevers well. He sleeps often, but not well, and fits the delirium profile exactly. This morning he's at 101.8, which is still high but enough of a dip that he thinks he's feeling much better. There was very little sleep last night. (And the night before.)
I am so grateful for these morning-quiet moments that give me a chance to (literally) breathe in something outside my own situation, to pull me back heavenward for even 20 seconds, a memory I can pull out of the card file later for a moment of closed eyes, deep breath, and reminders of grace.