A lot of things in life make me smile—falling leaves, football, and dark chocolate, for starters. I also get a kick out of watching my kids watch movies—they giggle and laugh out loud, even in a theater full of people.
My youngest daughter Grace coaxes a smile every time we say goodbye to each other. She gives the extended version with each departure—bye-see-you-later-I-love-you as if it were all one word.
The way Bethany hugs her cat makes everyone smile—a death-grip around the neck with kisses on the nose. Funny thing, the cat keeps coming back for more.
Chaperoning the prom and getting a ringside perch to cheer my son and daughter on to second place all-around winners in the swing dance competition, and eavesdropping as they play the piano and sing when they think no one’s listening. My son’s smile when his special needs sister says something that doesn’t make sense to most people.
The list goes beyond my kids. My friend’s wit, snow, moonlit ocean waves, sunsets with clouds, and cool breezes. Thunder, rain—misty rain and pouring rain and steady rain—take-your-breath-away-cold weather. West Texas farmland and dust devils, armadillos and jack rabbits, the coo of dove. Hanging out with my brothers, a fire in the fireplace, warm socks and cozy blankets, a dog’s howl (especially if it sounds like a beagle), a cat chasing its own tail, hot English tea with cream and one sugar cube, Dr. Pepper, fireworks, and patriotic songs. Friends who know my heart, even my failures, and love me anyway.
God often puts a smile on my face, too—the way He orchestrates circumstances as One who knows every detail of my life and, like a faithful friend, really cares. He leads me to Bible verses that seem to be placed in-between the leather covers just for me, and He answers prayers (sometimes with a yes and other times, a no). I even laugh out loud at some of the answers, especially the ones that are secrets between God and me.
The other day, I added another thing to my list. I was cradling a cup of tea on my front porch, watching the ants forge new paths across the sidewalk, and I heard my daughters’ laughter. They were teaching piano lessons next door, the oldest daughter as the full-fledged teacher and the youngest, the student teacher.
The sound of their voices came from my neighbor’s porch when they stole my attention from the ants. I watched Karis and Grace walk down the neighbor’s sidewalk to the street and turn toward our house, with the morning sun bouncing off their hair.
I couldn’t make out any details on their faces, except for the smiles. They were laughing and smiling. They clearly enjoyed each other. And that made me smile.
Adapted from an earlier article by Jayme Durant, originally published 2007.
