6:54pm is one of my very favorite times of day. I'm usually snuggling my sweet little boy, smelling his clean, wet hair, and giving him gentle kisses as I repeat these words to him: God is always with you. I quote Joshua 1:9 and Hebrews 13:5b-6 to him, and hope he internalizes it. We rock. I pat his back. Sometimes he lifts his head from my shoulder and gives me little baby boy kisses. He is precious.
By that time, we have already prayed and thanked God for all the important things in his day. At the forefront these days are friends, dirt, and tractors. And ROCKS! and Daddy. And Daddy's guitar, mandolin, and bass. And any other relatives he can remember to list. I have sung him a bedtime hymn, and he has had a wonderfully fun bathtime.
Most of the stress has begun to melt by 6:54. I remember how much I love my son, how thankful I am to be his mommy, and how blessed we are. I feel tired, and sometimes I still have yet to cry the tears I held back all day. There's still dinner to make for when my husband gets home, and I have just a few minutes to tidy the house and do something for me. Like blogging. Or reading a magazine. Or eating a chocolate chip cookie without sharing.
But 6:54? That's a moment of peace. A moment of all-is-well. An embodiment of my love for my family and for the God who allowed it to be like this, today. And yesterday. And so many bed times before.