A Father’s Delight

Do you ever have one of those lightbulb moments?  The single pause in time where it makes sense?

I had one of those yesterday.

This is the first year we’ve allowed our daughters to choose one extra-curricular activity to pursue throughout the year.

We’ve been cautious in the past about over-committing ourselves, with my evening & weekend work at the church and my husband’s out-of-town work.

They’ve been young enough to be suggestible and we’ve pursued short-term commitments in low-demand activities based more on schedules than interest.

This year, however, with me not working and my husband staying a bit closer to home, we decided they could each choose one thing to pursue.

The Choice

My oldest chose piano.

My youngest chose dance.

And my heart nearly exploded as I watched them lean into their choices.

Dance class was a riot as my daughter, eager to let out her pent-up creativity, flailed and leapt and was all knees and elbows and smiles that nearly broke her face.

She was far from the most graceful.  She was definitely not the most skilled.  But she was absolutely, without a doubt, the happiest, most engaged, most alive kid in the group.  She came to life.

I don’t get to watch piano lessons, but I get the recap from my usually reserved eldest, who stutters over her words in her rush to tell me everything at once – what the teacher said, the new songs she’s learning and best of all, the composition she gets to make and play for her teacher the next week!  Her eyes are shining and her cheeks glowing as her mind works around this new and exciting world that’s opening up for her.

I want to clap and laugh and dance and hug all at the same time.

My mom-heart is thrilled seeing my girls come alive.

The lightbulb moment

And that’s when it hits me: that aha moment.

That is how God feels when He sees me come alive.

I don’t have to be particularly good at it.  In fact, I can be all knees and elbows and making up for my lack of skill with sheer enthusiasm, and he’s delighted.

He’s not concerned with the comparison, of how I rank next to the others.

He’s bursting with joy at the life coming out inside of me.  Not even in the big things, like preaching or volunteerism.  That’s how he feels when he catches me dancing in the kitchen while making a good meal.  That’s how he feels when I’m glowing after taking the risk to encourage a friend.  That’s how he feels when I notice my daughter’s insecurity and take the time to pause, and draw her close.

He has a Father’s heart, and it delights in his children.

And I am his child.

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