Whether they’re building forts, racing through the house, or inventing daring stunts with couch cushions and courage, they bring laughter that echoes long after they’ve gone home.
I treasure these blessings. I love the giggles that bubble up from nowhere and the way an ordinary day can suddenly become an adventure.
These memories aren’t just sweet.
They’re sacred.
They remind me that joy lives in the everyday and that love often looks like muddy shoes, messy hair, wild laughter, and little arms wrapped tightly around my neck.
These boys, my grandsons, are gifts from Heaven.
They fill spaces I didn't even know were empty and bring back the wonder of when my own children were small.
I see glimpses of eternity in their eyes, and I feel the Lord's love in every hug, every laugh, and every moment we share.
They remind me that some of the greatest blessings in life don't arrive with great fanfare.
Sometimes they come running through the door.
Sometimes they build a fort in the living room.
Sometimes they climb into Grandma's arms.
And sometimes they simply make me laugh when I didn't even realize I needed to.
I don't just play with them.
I live with them.
I live in the laughter.
I live in the memories.
I live in the wonder of watching another generation grow.
And I am so grateful for that.
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