- As I stroke her fine blond hair, feeling her hot cheek as it rests upon my leg, I am overcome with the love I hold for her, and concern over her fever despite reason telling me it’s nothing major. I make slow circles on her bare back with my fingernails, feeling her rhythmic breathing rise and fall against my arm, and I am also reminded of a father’s love. In the van, returning from dinner, my spouse had whispered to me, “I just can’t be happy when she’s sick like this.” Our three year old succeeded long ago in wrapping a lasso around my husband’s heart. When she was just a tiny baby, they spent most of the day together. At that stage of her life he worked part time and I worked full time. Those two were thick as thieves, inseparable, two peas in a pod. Even now, she eagerly anticipates her daddy coming home from work, and when he does they stay up late together building forts, playing ball, and many other imagination games. The week prior to going on vacation, they set up a beige blanket in the living room floor and pretended they were going to the beach each night, playing volleyball and having picnics on the sand. After the baby was born, my three year old and her father became bosom buddies, and I often overhear her say to him, “You’re my best friend!”
- Late last night, my husband nudged me awake. As usual, our daughter had fallen asleep comforted in my arms, but had set-up her nightly residence burrowed into his side. It was with this close-quarters sleeping arrangement that he woke and noticed her skin radiating heat. He whispered to me across the bed, “I think she has a fever.” We got up together, moving and speaking silently since our vacation accommodations meant the baby held residence in our room as well. We worked together checking our sweet girl for a fever, making her comfortable, and giving some medicine for her symptoms and discomfort. After our finely tuned parental concert, he would offer to take our sweet, sick girl for the night, not wanting to contaminate the baby or me. I fell asleep in a king bed, all alone, thinking of my sick girl and her good daddy. I fell asleep eventually, but knew he would stay awake until her fever broke and he was certain she would be okay for the night. He is always protective, and selfless in his love for his little princess, the keeper of his heart.
- The night before I had watched those two walking hand in hand down the beach directly in front of me.
She and I had decided to take a walk down the beach together. We had a shovel and a bucket, and a mission to collect some fine shells. We made our way down the beach, stopping frequently, enjoying the scenery, and finding seaside treasures. At one point, I looked behind us and saw my sweet groom coming along to join us. He carried our baby daughter. Upon seeing me, the baby leaned towards me, calling for me with a gentle whine. On the other hand, our three year old eagerly asked her knight in shining armor to pick her up. “I’m tired of walking Daddy. I can’t walk anymore. Can you hold me?” He obliged quickly, managing to tote her and her treasure and excavation tools. As I watched him carrying her down the sandy beach I was reminded of our Heavenly Father. I enjoy seeing the character of Father God in my husband, watching God’s love manifest in how my spouse cares for our little girl. When we become weary and can go no further, our God carries us, often taking our baggage along. When we are low, or sick, He holds us, and cares for us in our time of need. He delights in us, seeing us as His little princess or prince, of whom he is very fond, and so in love. It’s easy sometimes to forget that God loves us this way. It’s difficult sometimes to imagine that someone so mighty can love someone so small, but He does, and so very much. We hold a special place in our Father’s heart, just as my little girl does with her earthly father here. We are all Daddy’s girls (or boys) whether we realize it or not.
That is all 🙂