Rocking chairs in Heaven

I hope there are rocking chairs in Heaven. I know that I feel the closest to Heaven when I'm rocking in mine. It's probably because when I'm in that chair, my lap is full of little ones who were there not very long ago. When I'm rocking Mitchell to sleep for his nap, I know I'm breaking all of the 'sleep expert' rules because I should be putting him in his bed and let him fall asleep on his own. But when snuggles right next to my heart and his breathing becomes slow and even I know this is what Heaven feels like. When I sit in my rocking chair with Caleb, we have the sweetest conversations without ever saying words. Our hearts whisper to each other, and I know this must be how we speak in heaven. When Matthew joins me in the chair and he giggles while I tickle him in his "tickle spots," I know those giggles make music in heaven. Josh is almost as big as I am when he sits on my lap to rock for a minute. While his legs are hanging to the floor and I can smell the sunshine in his hair, I know that Heaven must smell like that. His moments in my rocking chair are becoming shorter and aren't as often as I wish they were. I hope that in Heaven I have a big rocking chair on my porch- one that can never be outgrown- and one that will always face the sunshine.