I had failed deeply.

When gathering up Ben’s things after a sleepover, I put Pillow in the Aldi bag. And Letters the bear and Santa Penguin and the water bottle. And the little green stuffed whatever. When his dad came (“Hi Dada”), I remembered the other bag. And Piggy One and the leftovers.

We waved all the way down the driveway.

Nancy got home from playing the piano at a nursing care center with Musical Memories.

I napped. We did some errands and ate and walked.

I put on my loungewear which become pajamas when it’s late enough.

Nancy got a text from Hope: “Is lemon blanket there?”

On top of a pile of blankets on Ben’s bed was a small white and yellow blanket. It’s the first of several blankets that cover him when it’s bedtime. He’s aware of lemon blanket only for an instant, when it’s laid on top of him by someone who loves him. But for that moment, it matters.

I didn’t change out of lounge wear. I didn’t put on real shoes. I was on my way four minutes after the text.

He met me halfway down the driveway. I put lemon blanket in his hands as he looked up and said, “You came as fast as you could.” He hugged the blanket and was up the sidewalk and in the door.

No recrimination. No judgment. No lingering conversation about gratitude or the weather.

Simply a blessing. “You came as fast as you could.”

It’s not far from the words of Jesus. People were verbally attacking a woman who had anointed his feet with perfume. He stopped them and said, “She did what she could.”

I wonder. We worry so much about getting our lives in order, in getting everything right for God. We focus on the way we’ve failed as we are on our way to talk with God. And maybe, if we’ll listen, what we’ll hear is, “You came as fast as you could.”