It Doesn't Get Any Sweeter

As you read my blogs, it will become quite clear that I love being a grandmother. Mimi is my grandmother name. Last Friday was one of those times when my heart overflowed with joy and gratitude at being a grandmother.


I was caring for my little grandson, Leighton (5 months old). I was snuggling him close and giving him a bottle. He loves his bottle (an understatement). As he sucked furiously, I starting singing: "Oh how I love Jesus. Oh how I love Jesus. Oh how I love Jesus because He first loved me." He looked in my eyes with complete trust and kept sucking. His beautiful green/brown/with a tinge of blue eyes seemed to be saying: "It doesn't get any better than this, Mimi. Keep snuggling me. Keep feeding me. And keep singing to me." So that's what I did. However I began singing softer and softer, and his eyes got heavier and heavier until he stopped sucking, his little body relaxed completely, and he fell asleep. It doesn't get any sweeter than that.


Would be that every baby could at least once go to sleep in the arms of someone who adored him/her and heard the words: "Oh how I love Jesus" being sung ever so softly and sweetly. It wouldn't get any sweeter than that.