Her un-adulterated laughter as she pulls the well-loved pink blanket over her face hoping you'll join in on her game of peek-a-boo.
She raises her chubby little arms and sways to the beat as the sounds of worship music fill the kitchen. She looks up to me with her dimpled cheeks and irresistible smile as she waits for me to follow her lead.
She wants me to hold her up so she can reach to examine the not-yet-ripe walnuts on the green orchard trees. She softly fingers the rough green leaves with their barely noticeable veins running through them and touches the hard shell of the walnuts.
When did I stop looking at the small but sweet? When did life become so big and cease to be made up a succession of the small, everyday moments?
Enjoying feels like risk to me. Taking a break from looking at the big picture might mean I have to surrender control, like looking over at the scenery while I'm driving.
But I can sit down inside. I can experience, laugh, dance, and lift my arms up. I can because God gives us the small but sweet.