Holding Hands and Honeysuckles

His skinny, freckled hand grabbed mine.

"Here mom.  I'll help you up this hill."

My heart melted.  The little man, holding my hand in his, was protecting me. He held my Epipens in the pocket of shorts [always on guard for the menacing buzz of an insect], he waited on me every step of the trail...his steps ebbing and flowing in rhythm with mine. 

Tonight, I realized [once again] how my cup absolutely runneth over. My life isn't perfect [far, far from it] but this has to be a tiny glimpse of what Heaven will be.  How else can I describe the enormous swell in my heart when I look around and see all of this love?  

On our way back down the hill, we stopped....
....to partake of a few honeysuckles.  
....to check out a birds eye view of the rock quarry lake.
....to jump on and off of rocks.

Tonight, we put aside the laundry, the dishes from dinner, the news from the world [that honestly seems like it can smother], and a million other things that take our focus. 

Holding hands and honeysuckles. 

Tonight was enough....