She does

This was the best Thanksgiving ever.

It wasn’t the fact that my parents and my twin and bro-in-law and niece came and blessed our home with warmth and laughter…

Or the fact that my turkey and mashed potatoes and not-yo-momma’s-banana pudding totally ROCKED…

Or that the husband is home this year…

Or that Rhema screamed and ran round and round the dinner table while we ate – in nothing but her unmentionables – and nobody batted an eyelash, and this is family I have…

Or that I could burst with gratitude for a God who has healed my heart, saved me, shown me mercy upon mercy and grace upon grace time after time…

Or that Hope sang and played two little songs on the piano for us…

All these good gifts were more than enough to fill my cup to overflowing,

but the best was this:

Rhema prancing on the basement stairs, me standing in the doorway.

“Rhema. I love you. I love you.”

She doesn’t look at me, she seems completely unaffected as she plays on the stairs.

She understands so much more now. I always wonder, does she understand this? What I mean when I say ‘I love you.’? Does she feel loved when I say the words?

“Rhema. Do you love… me? Do you love me?” Why do I sound vulnerable? How silly.

She looks up suddenly, fixes her gaze just past me, and spontaneously speaks,

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Her words go into my heart and I have to sit down. I think it can’t be real. When she says a word it’s never just once. It’s always repeated two or three times. She says “yeah, yeah, yeah” a fair amount these days, but it’s not always the appropriate response, sometimes she doesn’t seem to understand the question and “yeah, yeah, yeah” is just her go-to phrase.

I know you love me in your own sweet way, but are you really trying to tell me right now?

“Rhema. You love me. You do? You do?”

This child God gave me who brings me to my knees and then inspires me to stand every day, (all in the same day or hour or minute), my girl, my darling half-dressed daughter with popsicle juice in her wild hair. She climbs into my lap, gives me a buck-toothed smile, says,

“Do, do, do.”

.

If you have an inkling of what this means to me, multiply that by a thousand and you might be getting close. I think I win, friends. I am the happiest, proudest, most thankful mother on the planet tonight.