Recently, my 7-year-old daughter made a mailbox out of paper and taped it to the outside of her room. I began using this as an opportunity to send her notes of love and encouragement. So, at various times of the day, without her seeing me, I would sneak a note into her mailbox. That night, I put in a note for her to find in the morning. I awoke the next morning with my daughter jumping on my bed saying, “How did you do it Mommy? I got a letter from you in the night!”
Excited, she busied herself in making a paper mailbox for me, taping it to the outside of my room. And the written communication began in earnest. Notes of love continued through the week.
Two days ago, I bought her a small toy while we were out shopping together. We came home and after supper, she quickly disappeared saying, “Don’t come into my room, Mommy.” Knowing that she was working on some little project, I busied myself washing the dishes and cleaning up. Excitedly, my daughter then appeared saying, “There’s a letter in your mailbox!” And as we went to my mailbox together, I could see a rolled up piece of blue paper sticking out.
Unrolling the paper, I read her crayoned message: “Dear Mommy, I love you. Thank you for the toy. But just becuse you got me a toy dose not mane I love you more than I did be for. I could never tell you how much I love you.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as my precious girl flung her arms around me in a big hug.
As I stood there enjoying the embrace of my daughter, I was reminded that our Heavenly Father also receives such joy when we offer our love to Him with the excitement and simplicity of a child.
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Eighteen years ago I stood looking at you—fresh-born—through the big glass window in the hospital nursery, watching the nurses try to count your tiny toes. Minutes old, you were bright-red-screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs unbounded life, squirming and kicking in every direction—quite a challenge to those toe-counting nurses. How I wanted to reach through the window, to be closer to you as you celebrated your newfound freedom. From behind the glass, I breathed a promise: I would never stand in the way of your freedom. « Continue reading »
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Dr. James Dobson’s book, “Stories of the Heart and Home” illustrates that special romantic love that we dwell on during Valentine’s Day so beautifully, I just had to send it along to all of you. “But nothing is so beautiful as a loving relationship that conforms to God’s magnificent design”. Here is a brilliant example of this divinely inspired love. It was written by the surgeon who experienced it. Perhaps you will be deeply moved by his words, as was I. « Continue reading »
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Last week, my Eli, 4, set about filling a jar full of water on the front walk. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was going to catch a rainbow. He thought about it, and it was the first sunny day in what had seemed like weeks. He spent the better part of the day working toward his goal, occasionally squinting into the sky. « Continue reading »
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There are moments in books and movies when a small gesture reveals a profound insight about a character. They might decide to go barefoot, or refuse to board a bus, or turn their face upward to taste the rain. After consuming enough literature and films, we learn that these moments matter and that the author is helping to reveal a character’s deepest self with these gestures. Recently, I was reminded that those moments aren’t limited to fiction, nor to adults. My 1-year old daughter Ayla taught me that lesson last week when I found her asleep in the bathtub. Let me explain. « Continue reading »
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I am standing in a hot, smelly gymnasium. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back. My right arm is aching from holding up the video camera. My back hurts from hunching over so that I don’t block someone else’s view. And yet here I am with a big smile on my face… as happy as ever because tonight I am watching my daughter perform in the play she has been working on for the last few months. « Continue reading »
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I used to hate Mother’s day. Not because I was not grateful for my Mother or for what my Grandmothers did for me. They were and are great women. I hated Mothers day because it was a day to remember and honor mothers. Something I longed so badly to be but was not. « Continue reading »
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