A strong connection

I walk into the bedroom and it's quiet. He's sitting in the rocking chair next to her bed and she's asleep. But she's on the edge of the bed. As close as she can get to the chair. And her arm is outstretched with her hand on his knee. She has to touch him. She has to know he is there before she can drift off into sleep. And my heart swells, tears rush to my eyes as I marvel at the connection between father and daughter.

Most nights I can hear her telling him everything she can think to tell, just so that he has to stay with her and listen, just so that she can delay the inevitable bedtime. She 'reads' him a story, sings him song after song.Tells him stories about her dolls, her friends, her day, before she inevitably drifts off in mid sentence.
Some nights she cries. Calls for her daddy and he goes to her. Without hesitation. A real daddy's girl, that one. And while he is there he often falls asleep and she wakes with him still there. He tells me he opens his eyes to a big toothy smile and kisses. One on each cheek, one on the forehead, before she takes his face in her hands and gives him a sloppy kiss on the lips. Good morning happiness to find her daddy still with her.

Is that not how it should be for us and our father? Should we not ache to know he is there before we are secure enough to drift into sleep? In fact should we not want  to spend our last waking moment reaching out and touching him and wanting to get as close to him as we can?  Should we not want to pour out our words to keep the connection with him? Tell him of our day, of our fears, our needs, our dreams... sing him songs, tell him stories, share ourselves with him. And when we fear, when we call out to him in distress, does he not come immediately? Come to console, to love?
And that is how we should awaken. With a song on our lips for our father. A kiss just for him. Joy at the realisation that he is there with us, having never left us. 

My daughter teaches me lessons day after day. The learning never stops. And day after day I realise how strong that bond is. How beautiful the bond is. How deep the connection is with her hero. 

The bond between a father and a daughter

The bond between our Father and us.

Five Minute Friday - Tree

Each Friday a group of women (and sometimes a man or two) join together for 5 minutes to write. No editing, no changes, no proof reading, just WRITE for 5 minutes. Today's topic? 

TREE

GO

A wise man once told me that having a child is like planting a tree, that our children are the seeds we are planting in the world. 
It didn't hit home until recently, when the weight of motherhood descended upon my shoulders as I realised what an awesome responsibility it is to teach a little person all they should know and do. A baby is still 'easy'... they eat, sleep, grow... but once they start talking and interacting with their world, a child becomes a sapling that needs to be bent and guided the way it should go.
And what the sapling does, and where its seeds influence, that is MY responsibility.

So, my dearest children, my Jessica, my Nathan... 

My wish for you, my hope for your future is...

That you take nourishment from the truths we try to teach you every day...

That our lessons not break you, but strengthen your resolve to be the best you can be ...

That you grow strong and tall in this world that wants to break you down...

That you lean into the winds of adversity and use them to strengthen your core, the real you, the important you...

That you put down deep, strong roots, wherever you choose to settle...

That you bear fruit... good fruit, that nourishes the world around you and sweetens the lives of those you choose to love...

That you be beautiful in your fairness, and flexible to allow others around you to grow...

And may your seeds, your 'future-trees' bless you with their strength and wisdom and grace, and may your legacy continue.

STOP

"That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; " Ephesians 3:17-18, KJV 
 



Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. Psalm 1:1-3 NIV




If you want to join us on a Friday for Five Minute Friday then click on the link :)

Five Minute Friday: GRACE

Each Friday a group of women (and sometimes a man or two) join together for 5 minutes to write. No editing, no changes, no proof reading, just WRITE for 5 minutes. Today's topic? 

Grace

GO

Grace. 
Sometimes grace is not getting what we DO deserve. The punishment for things we do wrong, people we hurt, words said before we are able to stop them... grace. 
Coming from a Father so loving, so caring, so forgiving that just a breath of "I'm sorry" causes Him to forget that which we have done, forever, with no trace of it remaining. 
Gone.
Forever.
If only we loved like that... if only we were able to forget. 
And forgive. 
And have grace with each other. 

Grace in the moments where your daughter kicks you away because she wants Daddy. Grace where she shrugs your hand off her shoulder and rolls over. Grace in the moments where she pulls a face at you, or back-chats you. 
Grace. 
A moment of breathing and realising that I, too once did all those things to my mother .

Grace in the moment where a friend who is hurting so much that she wants others to feel the same pain, snaps, or says something so painful you just want to cry.
Grace
A moment where I realise that I, too, hurt sometimes and need love, not anger.

Grace. 
Where I realise I do so much worse to my Father at times...
Grace. 
Undeserved favour.

STOP