What a difference a smile makes.

My baby, Owen, is five months old today. I know I'm partial, but I swear he is the most beautiful baby in the world. Not just this hemisphere, mind you. The whole, big, huge world. One of the things that makes him so absolutely endearing is his smile. It takes over his whole face. His big, round checks become thoroughly pitted with dimples and his eyes usually squint so much that they come close to the point of closing altogether. (That particular trait he inherited from his Aunt Anna...thank you, Auntie!) The most beautiful part about his smile, though, is that it's absolutely instantaneous. He just sits and watches, waiting for you to look at him so that he can flash his smile at you.

Yesterday morning, the Holy Spirit was working on me. That's where that thought came from: "What a difference a smile makes." I was positive he was referring to Owen and how he can light up an entire room with a quick grin. I figured he was encouraging me to smile at others. It can be such an encouragement. My smile doesn't hold a candle to Owen's, but maybe it could help brighten someone else's day.

It turns out, however, that that wasn't entirely the sum total of the Spirit's message for me.

Yesterday was a rotten day for me. My grandma is on her death bed. That has had me in a major funk for the past several days. A gray cloud that's just not going away, and I'm not so sure I want it to. How is it that someone so dear can be laying in bed with their body slowly but surely giving out on them, while we all just go on with our busy lives? It just doesn't seem right. On top of that, Owen didn't feel like going to sleep very easily. He usually conks out on his own in a matter of minutes. Instead, he cried and fussed and cried some more. He finally cried himself to sleep for his afternoon nap and I proceeded to get big brother, Caleb, down for his own nap. (I was SO excited, by the way, because this meant there was a glimpse of freedom on my horizon. An hour or so of peace and quiet all to myself. I had to spend it doing taxes, but nonetheless...)

But then Caleb was (uncharacteristically) disobedient while we were doing his nap-time routine, so I told him we wouldn't be able to read a story before his nap. Tears ensued. Then he really started acting up, so he got a spanking. More tears ensued. He was a regular 'ol snowball that was getting bigger and bigger and getting dangerously near avalanche status. We managed to regain his composure, though, and got him into bed. With a sigh of relief, I headed back down the hall to the kitchen to get some lunch, which, according to the somewhat woozy feeling I was experiencing, was long overdue. But, no such luck. I hadn't even made it to the kitchen when Owen started crying again.

"You've got to be kidding me."

He'd been asleep for maybe 20 minutes. My hope for some time alone was dashed.

There were a few more annoyances to my day... Zach had planned to be home by 4:00 so we could have a family evening together. He got held up, though, so it was 6:00 before he made it home. Not his fault, but just another bummer. And when I went to pour a bowl of applesauce for Caleb to go with his dinner, nothing happened. Nothing, that is, until the contents of the entire (brand new) jar came out in one swift gush onto the counter.

Again, "you've got to be kidding me!"

It wasn't long after the applesauce episode that I began to hear a still, small voice again: "What a difference a smile makes."

"What? There is no way in heck I'm going to be smiling now!"

But, in his oh-so-gentle, yet persistent way, he kept on working on me.

"Wait a minute. You mean I should CHOOSE to smile? Oh, right. What a difference that could make."

My selfish side would definitely have preferred to spend the evening in the middle of a full-fledged pity party. But, how much fun would that have been? After all, my pity party would only have been attended by 3 people - me, myself and I. And, believe me, I was no fun to hang around with last night. So I did smile. Rather half-heartedly at first, but it did help.

Maybe next time I will remember to do it a little sooner. (Thank you, Holy Spirit, for teaching me and guiding me. Most of all, though, thank you for being patient with me...especially when it takes me all day to get the message.)