As I tried to sneak through the living room tonight where my three precious grandchildren are camping out, like they do every Thursday night, a tiny voice whispered out of the darkness "I want a kiss and a hug." The weariness of the day's stressful routine vanished as I scooped the four year old insomniac into my arms, pressing his long silky curls against my cheek.  I inhaled deeply, planting smooches all over his little chubby face until a giggle emerged. He squirmed away, scrambling back to his comfy nest of fluffy blankets leaving me sure that I had just encountered the living breathing presence of God. 

He is always with us but we don't always recognize that he's there orchestrating the smallest details. His voice can be heard in the giggle of a child, his hand is the one outstretched by a friend to comfort you. His peace is written into the vivid colors of the sunset and the sounds of leaves rustling softly in the wind. Sometimes he jumps into my lap and purrs while I'm trying to work, reminding me to take a break and enjoy the many gifts he has lovingly tucked into even the busiest moments of my day.