In between the bed and the wall is sometimes a frustrating place for me. Stubbed toes in the dark when I should've been in bed hours previously haunt me. I've also bruised my elbows more times than I want to count. And in between that wall and the bed is a sleeping child, the most peaceful sight I've ever witnessed. It's hard to believe that moments before, I was ready to plug my pitiful ears and rescue them from her screams. And hours before, we'd had quite a time full of arguments and mischief, and needless turmoil, when all I should have done was take a deep breath, maybe a sigh. In between that bed and the wall is enough room for forgiveness and a smile, and most of all, precious love.
But I'm sure I'll forget how much room there is when I bump my elbow tonight.
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