The room is cast in a soft, warm glow from the salt lamp on the bookshelf across the room—much dimmer and gentler in real life than the bright glare captured in the photo. I am lying here with Odessa, her little body shifting and settling as she falls asleep beside me, her breathing gradually slowing to match the peaceful rhythm of the room. 

Against the wall near the bookshelf, shadows and shapes cast a quiet backdrop, while right in front of the warm, jagged crystal stand two tiny rubber figures—those little Jesus figurines that seem to turn up everywhere these days, standing sentinel and watching over things. Hypothetically, of course. But tonight, in the quiet, it feels a little less hypothetical and a lot more comforting.

While the Proverbs murmur softly from my audio, their ancient words of wisdom weaving a steady, calming cadence into the air, my mind is still running ninety-to-nothing. I watch Odessa as she drifts off, and my gaze drifts across the room to that little salt lamp and the minuscule guardians standing watch in its light.

And just like that, the racing thoughts shift. Even in the midst of life’s unpredictable storms, the gratitude hits deep and clear. I look at the blessings surrounding me: a good home, a wonderful family with kids and grandkids, and Kevin—a husband who loves me like no other and has my back no matter what. And tucked right beside me is Odessa, a precious piece of the blessings God has given me.

Once she is sound asleep, I carefully slide out of bed, careful not to disturb her rest, and make my way to crawl into my own.

Surrounded by the warmth of the salt lamp and the deep peace of this home, my heart finally settles into the quiet. Tonight, I know for certain that I am truly, deeply blessed.