When I cry

Still grieving the loss of my own parents, and missing my older children 4000 miles away,  plus being sick, has made me quite introspective, and I’ll admit it, moody and blue.  I don’t say that to garner any attention, lol, it’s just fair warning.  This post might not be one of my happier ones.

I’ve been thinking a lot about being a parent, and the love I have for my kids; How much I desire to see them grow into healthy adults, how I love to see them succeed, and hurt for them when they fall.  I’m amazed at how much their lives reflect on me, when they are complimented, I take it personally and feel complimented as well, when someone doesn’t like them, or says unkind things to them, it hurts me deeply, because—well—because they are MINE, a part of me.

I love to bless them.  I love when I can provide something they desire, especially if they are unable to acquire it for themselves.  Christmas is such a joy for me when I’ve got the means to satisfy something they have pined for, maybe even been saving for to buy themselves…and there it is…a gift, no cost to them, just provided by me.

I enjoy interacting with my kids.  They have wonderful insights, and I learn so much from them.  They say the funniest things sometimes.  I love to hear their little riddles and jokes, what they are learning, and how they are doing.  When they are hurting or busy, our conversations often wane.  I’m always so disappointed when they don’t talk to me, I feel like the least I could do is listen, and maybe help them carry some of that burden.  And, on the occasions that they do share their struggles, disappointments and failures with me, I hurt with them, it breaks my heart and I cry right there with them.  They are not allowed to apologize for making me cry, it is my deepest joy to share their burden…they are a part of me…they are mine.

This morning, I happened upon this song by the Gaither’s.  I’ve never heard it before, and it blessed me so, I have to share it.

I love the picture of my Heavenly Father loving me and sharing my own parental emotions.  Because I am His child, because I’m a part of Him, the things that bring me joy or break my heart affect Him.  As a loving Father, He longs to share in my grief and offers to carry the burden that I place at His feet in our conversations.  I love the thought of Almighty God, waiting for me to come and share with Him, then rejoicing or empathizing with me, as a loving Father.

 

 

 

 

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