Vanilla Pudding Day

Look at what you're doing. Right now. Perhaps you're curled up in a comfy pair of pants. Maybe you sat down with a piping mug o' tea. Did you just finish a long day of work, with tired muscles and sleepy eyes?

I'm wearing yoga pants (my favorite), I'm nibbling on a bowl of strawberries, listening to my baby holler in the next room as he steadfastly refuses to take his afternoon nap, and I'm watching my hubby read on the couch.

There was nothing special about today.

Scott teases me about my desire for adventure, and several months ago we went on a "great explore." I now consider occasional Saturday "explores" one of our traditions. They're very easy to complete, and delightfully relaxing and invigorating. We wake up early (don't wince... it's actually fun on a day off!), and bundle up in warm clothes (that will change in July). Then we go on an "explore." They're typically wonderfully, un-planned adventures... to new places, new parks, yummy eating spots.

Today was wee Grantling's first "great explore."

Wee Polar-Grant!

The sun peeped up in rosy splendor, and just as the house-tops were changing from dull gray to golden shingles, we set off on our adventure.

Grantling is clearly thrilled.

Stroller-fixer. Handsome. Perfect hubby.

The neighborhood was silent, and I tucked my hand in my handsome hubby's arm, as we argued about whether or not Grant was really warm enough. Through the neighborhood, out into the "great beyond" we ventured. This jaunt was shorter than most, as our tiny polar-Grant was with us.

They spelled my fake name wrong: "Mattie"

We stopped at Starbucks. We sipped caramelly goodness, we passed baby back and forth, and listened to conversations of people next to us. (It really is amazing how long people can discuss running shoes and trimming walnut trees...) I just enjoyed my hubby and baby.

Blessed.

"Honey, this is why people laugh at your stories..."

In the aching, windy-cold we raced home, whimpering the entire time. (Don't worry, Grantling was in a fuzzy cocoon of warmth. But Scott wouldn't let me climb in with him...)

The tiny polar-bear was exhausted after his great adventure. And his parents were feeling very polar-ish, so we all cuddled down under piles of blankets and snoozed away.

I made a roast.
Scott put away laundry.
We had a laughing match as he slide-tackled me into a pile of sheets.
I dusted.
Scott fed Grant.

Grant was nice enough to save his first "roll over" for when we were both home (three times in a row!). And yes, I'm the mother who checks developmental milestones... for your information, most babies don't roll over until month four. Grant is just two months old. I'm saying he's a genius. Scott is saying that I'm over-reacting. Whatevs.

Now I'm sitting here. With my strawberries. My handsome men. And my yoga pants.

And I'm amazed at the goodness of God. Not the "goodness" in the sense of the good that people whip out every time that they're in pain. Not the goodness that explodes like firecrackers in your face through life-changing blessings. No, this is "vanilla pudding" goodness.

This is God letting the sun shine every day. This is comfy clothes, warm drinks, and cuddly babies. God gave us down-time. God created Saturday mornings. God gave me a husband who folds laundry.

Straight ballin' in some of Daddy's 1980's duds.

This goodness slips into our lives in mellow, forgettable moments. It's like vanilla pudding... yummy, comforting, and... normal. Look at the shear normalcy of your daily comforts, your daily joys. Think about the bubble of joy you get when your kitchen is clean, when you have a matching pair of socks, when you get home in 10 minutes instead of 20. It's not German chocolate cake goodness... No one is gasping in awe at your vanilla pudding days.

But isn't it amazing that they are given to us? God could have chosen to make our lives here on earth complete and utter misery without Him. He could have given us only the things that we ask for, or the things that we remembered to thank Him for. God could have decided that we only receive what we earn: you went to church? You get a cup of coffee on Thursday. You helped the homeless? That should earn you one smooth commute home from work.

But He didn't.

He gives us vanilla pudding days... lots of them... in between the brussel sprout days and the German chocolate cake, God gives countless moments of vanilla pudding.

Goodness in tiny details. Love in every moment. Gently constant in its presence. Unnoticeable in its very permanence. Vanilla pudding happiness.

And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house...

Deuteronomy 26:11a