New Year’s Hope

New Year’s Eve, Paul had to work so Zippy slept in Paul’s spot in the bed beside me — a privilege the boys often fight over.  (And Mom loves it, knowing that in a few short years they won’t want to sleep with me anymore.)  Zippy and I did not stay up to welcome the new year.  Instead, we went to bed around 10 and cuddled up close so we could share my new electric blanket.

Just about the time I thought he’d be asleep, he spoke in a sleepy little voice, “I can’t believe tomorrow is 2010.”

“Me either,” I whispered back.

“I can’t wait,” he said in his groggy, slurred voice.

“Me either,” I whispered back, smiling.

And then his next words came in the same groggy slur but were delivered with such authority and truth that I almost sat right up in bed.  “It’s gonna be a really good year, Mama.”

I seriously missed a breath or two while those words repeated in my mind.  It was weird and surprising how it struck me.  I felt like it was a message — a promise, even — from God.  I silently thanked God for it.  And as I listened to Zippy’s little snore beside me, I claimed that statement for my family for this year.

“It’s gonna be a really good year!”


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