Reading is Exhausting

For real. She was yawning in the middle of sentences, so I allowed her the rare privilege of sleeping on the couch instead of upstairs with the other two. While making supper, I came out to check on her and melted. There's nothing that softens a mother's heart like seeing her children sleep with monsters. (I'm not joking about the melting part, though. The consuming love that rises up burns out all my faults and selfishness for that moment, leaving nothing but the love that must be a glimmer of our Father's own.)