“Tell me the story! Tell me the story of when I was born!” She said desperate to hear again of how her life had so indelibly touched ours. She looked up with eager anticipation of the story she new only too well.
One wonders at what goes through the mind of a two year old when such questions arise. Is it vainglory wanting to be recognized as significant? Is it her way of understanding the past that she has no memory? Or is it simply that she wants to know that her father loved her from the very start?
Tenderly I pull her onto my lap and she rests her soft head on my chest. A smile dawns her face as she looks up in expectation. I smile at her and treasure the moment in my heart.
Then begins the story. The story of how Rebekah was born. As the word’s come out of my mouth, I find myself praying that God would use this simple moment to shape my daughter’s heart. I navigate through the events of Rebekah’s birth choking back the tears as my mind is flooded with the emotion that God grants with memory.
The story is finished and her questions have been answered, she gives me a hug. The moment is over as quickly as it began. And another line is written in a different story for Rebekah… The story of Rebekah’s Dad. I pray that I don’t fail her.
. . . . . .
We’ve been using real life stories lately to illustrate the scriptures to Rebekah. Woven into the story of her birth is Psalm 127, the passage of scripture I memorized years before Avia and I were ever married. Woven into the story of the day Avia and I were married is Ephesian 5, the passage I used to propose to Avia. And woven into the story of my salvation is Revelation 3 and Romans 10:3 that God used to break my heart and show me my need of Him.
- A few Thoughts on Fatherhood
- Choosing to Date Differently (an Introduction)
- It helps to be Mr. Right when looking for Miss Right: otherwise it’s all wrong
- What I saw at Picklefish changed my life
- 21 Days of Bond(ing)
- Grandpa’s Secret Strategy for Successful Dating: and Why it Worked
- Why it was easy to ask her dad