Bottle It

I wish I could take all of the excitement of Christmas, the joy of being with family, the sheer delight and anticipation the children (and I admit it, I also) feel about opening presents, the warmth and love and goodness...and bottle it.

In fact, there are quite a few things I wish I could bottle. I wish I could lock up the sweetness of moments somewhere tangible instead of only holding them loosely in my mind.

I want to bottle the gummy toothless baby smile of each of my children and their first giggles, and while we're at it, their baby scent. I want to bottle the feeling of holding Cody's hand, laughing until I cry with girlfriends, and the way the tension in my back releases when I slip into bed after a long hard day. I could forever save the confidence of my best hair day, the excitement of meeting my children on the day they were born, and the taste of potato soup as only my grandmother could make it.

Sometimes I like to imagine Heaven as the place where every good and beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my life on earth becomes realized a million times better than I knew it could be. It will be like everything I saw and felt on earth was a pitiful replica of the truth. I'll shake my head in amazement at the depth of colors, the enormity of love, the unshakable sense of safety, purity, belonging, and trust. And the best part will be that I won't be wanting to bottle it. It will be completely embedded in my very existence like it never has been before.