Message in a Bottle…of Baby Shampoo

When I was a young mother, I thought I’d always be changing diapers, folding socks, or helping someone with homework. Now that our three are 30, 27, and 20, I catch myself staring at mamas and children everywhere, wishing I could go back.

In September, I roomed with DiAnn Mills at a writers’ conference. As we washed our faces one night she said, “Try baby shampoo. It takes off eye makeup and doesn’t sting.” She squirted a dab in my hand.

Oh, how the sweet scent took me back. Suddenly I was a young mother again bathing my children. In my mind, I saw myself holding my girls in their pajamas, reading bedtime stories. I remembered giving my son his first bath.



After conference, feeling foolish, I traipsed down the baby aisle at the grocery store and bought Johnson’s baby shampoo. Every night now, washing myself, I feel the pinch of nostalgia. I’ve even dreamed my three are toddlers.

Yesterday, I jotted two words in my prayer journal:


“God, I’m not ready for it to be over.”

Praise Me for the memories, He seemed to say. And praise Me for today.

I made a second pot of coffee and got a whiff of the enticing smell. “Okay, it’s not baby shampoo, but thank You for the aroma of Sumatra brewing.” I filled my cup and took it on the porch. “Thank You for the scent of the gardenia bushes.” Back inside, smiling, I made the bed. “Thank You for the sunshiney sheets. For lavender bubble bath.”

Maybe every day is a memory maker, and maybe, just maybe, my praise is a sweet aroma to God.

I thank my God every time I remember you.” Phil 1:3 (NIV)