I took my kids to our church carnival a couple weekends back.  Jordan told me, “Mommy, I want our daddy.  I don’t want daddy to be in heaven.  I want our daddy to come down of heaven.”

At nap time today, Jordan cried, “I want my daddy.  I am sad because I want my daddy.”

I told my kids this week that we would be taking summer swimming lessons.  Maddi immediately looked up at me and asked, “Daddy Come?”  Later in the day while reading books she pointed to the father figure in the story and questioned if he was “Daddy?”

Their tender inquiries and hopeful exploration to find out more about their father often leaves me drained and feeling helpless.  Days ago when I felt overly discouraged, I received an email that lifted my spirits:


Do you have any idea how much strength you give me and probably hundreds of others?  Do you know the joy of reading of your triumphs and the adventures of Jordan and Maddi?  Don’t be sad.  We all love you very much and wish only the best for you, Jordan and Maddi.  The future is very, very bright for you. 


I never imagined before the imagery of adventure.  That through the journey of my writing, a voyage of pain and hope is opened for others to share and encourage.  The supportive email also prompted me to be ever more present-minded with the endeavors of my children.  They indeed have fascinating lives and I don’t want to miss these gleams of life’s treasures.  We are undeniably on an adventure, one my children help me explore.   

Putting my children to bed the other night our babysitter told Jordan and Madelynn if they are scared they can pray to the angels in heaven to watch over and guard them.  Jordan looked at her and said, “We don’t need other angels to watch us, we have our daddy guarding us.”

I am amazed that my three year old articulates his thoughts in such detail.  This is only the beginning of the adventure and I am touched to be a part of it. 

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