She looks to see my eyes stayed upon her every move. Arms flowing, with a few jagged edges. Feet prancing, though she sometimes trips. The music jamming Toby Mac or Third Day. My precious daughter.
But I notice her eyes. They quickly scan up to my face in search of validation. That is how she feels my love--when I watch with focused attention. She needs to know that her mommy cares about what she enjoys. And she measures it with my gaze.
All my kids are different. And I would venture to say that if we had nine more, each one would be uniquely designed as well. (Though for the record, the idea of having twelve children makes my knees buckle.) But God amazingly gives insight into their little hearts--the bent of their souls.
I want to have ears to hear.
A friend sent me an article the other day talking about the juggling we do as parents. We have various "balls" in the air--kids, spouse, home, job, church work,...our relationship with God. Some balls can drop to the ground and they bounce. Other balls, however, shatter when they meet the earth.
I don't want to "drop the ball" when it comes to the those I love--those who love me. I pray for wisdom to guide through the often crazy moments of the day. I want to believe true things about those around me.
But when I do fail--probably even before the breakfast table--I am ever-thankful for the grace of my God. He picks up, heals, and ministers to those hidden places that I may have broken.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
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