I call my nephew “Smiles for Miles.” He’s six months old, with the perfect pudgy belly and a face that beams contentment for 97% of his waking moments. Every night, fresh from his bath and smelling like baby shampoo, he’ll lie on his changing table in nothing but a diaper and his killer grin, and my sister will tickle his tummy and under his arms. And for minutes on end, Miles will laugh – lip-quivering, whole-body-vibrating laughter, a laugh you could bottle and sell as a sunshine substitute on your darkest day.

This, to me, is what “rejoicing in your whole being” looks like – like not knowing anything more than the safety and bliss of that moment and being taken over by it, from your grin (toothy or toothless) to your wiggly-toes. When is the last time you allowed yourself to be claimed by joy? When is the last time that you remembered the great gifts of God – rich like regal robes and rejuvenating as springtime – and said “thank you” with your whole jubilant being?

By Shelli  from D365