Proof The Bible Is True

“Goodnight, baby girl,” I whispered, tucking my two-month-old daughter, Alex, into her crib. I was careful not to shake her noisy new “busy box” hanging at the far end. The busy box, a brightly colored cube, was covered with bells, buttons and knobs that made every ring, squeak, rattle and ding you could think of. Alex was still too young to play with all the gadgets but sometimes her three-year-old sister, Kelly, happily reached up and gave it a whirl for her.

 

I wasn’t tired yet and my husband, Mike, was reading in bed so I grabbed a home-decorating magazine and a tiny razor and plunked down on the living room floor. I loved combing the pages for inspirational photos which I could slice out and add to my “dream folder.” I had collected quite a lot during my pregnancy and found it relaxed me and reduced my stress.

 

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