Daddy Loves Me

Precious pigtails frame her pixie face, brown eyes laughing slyly at me even as her mouth forms a pout. She is determined to get her way and to have fun doing it, at whatever cost to my sanity. She knows cuteness is on her side.

Fortunately this morning, in spite of her readiness to rebel, harmony reigns, and we sit on the couch reading books, her favorite pastime and one I particularly delight in…when I slow myself down and take the time. Lately I have been distracted and discouraged, feeling far from God and therefore disconnected with everyone else. As usual, the tasks of each day seem to swallow up all my good intentions to simply be a blessing to my kids.

I’m reading the same book for the fourth time, mouth working but mind elsewhere, when she suddenly stands up and looks out the window. “Where’s my Daddy? Where’s my Daddy?” she demands, as if suddenly and painfully aware of his absence.

My heart twinges as I think of her Daddy, coming in after work each day to sweep her up in his arms. They sit on the floor and cuddle, talk, and wrestle while the house fills with her giggles. He is intentional in his delight of her.

“You love your Daddy, don’t you?” I ask.

She smiles a slow smile, full of more meaning than it seems a two-year old could comprehend. “My Daddy loves me,” she whispers.

The tears come readily to my eyes. She knows she is delighted in. She is so confident that her Daddy cherishes her, and her mission each day is to wait for that moment when Daddy comes home.

This is how it is, my Abba whispers to my heart. Though you would deny my love, it is there for you. I delight in you. You are my girl.

What is stopping me? How can I be like my little girl, delighting in the love of her Father? I need only to believe that His love sees me as precious and prized. I need only to come and sit with Him on the floor, forgetting everything else in the joy of being loved.