a child's dance

"sit down, mommy. watch me." so i sat, cross-legged on the floor, in front of a small, square stage in front of the larger stage where the band and rest of the gang were practicing for our evening production. the music was playing, a sweet song that served as a fitting backdrop for a young child's play. and then she began. the four-by-four foot stage became a wonderland, a worship land. she closed her eyes, stretched out her hands to her side, and swayed back and forth. as she danced, she opened her eyes, moving back and forth. her arms gracefully moving up over her head; her feet spinning her around. and back to the front, just so her toes grazed the edge of the stage, eyes closing, arms out, smile on her face. this was quite possibly the sweetest scene of purity, innocence and worship i had ever seen. here was my baby, my two-year-old princess, pouring out herself for her mommy's delight. but it went deeper. she had caught the spirit she had witnessed in others. she had danced into the presence of God. and my heart soared. i smiled. i had tears. i softly wiped them away as i watched her in amazement, in true delight. she is of me. she is of my flesh. she is of my spirit. she is my inspiration, for she has given me an experience of my Father's joy in me.

in a mirror

i sat, getting my daughter ready for bed, listening to her talk and watching her face light up at the words she's articulating. and i watched. i looked at her in the mirror; she was just to my side, turned enough away so that i couldn't quite see her face. so i relied on the mirror to show me her expressions. but i felt drawn. the mirror was nice, the reflection pretty clear. but it wasn't complete. here she was beside me, and i was gazing into a mirror to see her. so i turned. i leaned. i looked into her adoring face and felt my heart squeeze with a love so profound, i wanted to never have to look in a mirror again. she was real. she was right beside me. how could i substitute anything else? and then i realized - that's how it will be when i finally see my Father. when the mirror is cast away, and i'm turned, leaned, slightly shifted so that i can see His face with my own eyes. it's going to be perfect. complete. beyond comparison.

watch me, daddy

playing on the swings in an ordinary church yard. really a simple get-up, a few swings, a wooden structure, and a plastic slide. but to a two-year-old, a glimpse of heaven itself. we tried all the swings. picked up some rocks - smooth, shiny, red, clear. lined the rocks up on the wooden ledge, went down the slide. but the greatest feat of all - the "wadder." the first couple of tries, i helped her. this foot first; now use this hand; grab this handle; big girl! not too much time and she got it. i only had to help her a little. went down the slide again. played with some rocks. and then daddy came. "watch me, daddy." how sweet those words sound from a mouth of innocence, a face overwhelmed with joy. "i cwimb the wadder." mommy and daddy watch. she climbs; and climbs; one foot then the other; grabs the handles; pulls herself up; she's made it. all by herself. with daddy watching. amazing. a little girl's desire to show her daddy what she can do. a daddy's smile when he learns that's the first time she's climbed all by herself. a mommy's satisfaction that this, indeed, is a moment to remember.