Sunrise

Today I got a special glimpse of the heart of my little girl. Around 7:00 this morning, she came into our room to say good morning. This isn't anything out of the ordinary. But today, she said "MOM! You've gotta look out the window at the sunrise!" So I opened the blinds to view a gorgeous sunrise, pink at the top cascading down to vibrant orange. We admired for a few minutes as my son came to join in. All four of us stood there staring and saying how it's neat that God made us a pink sunrise today. Since Mackenzie's favorite color is pink, I like to make sure she knows that God makes some just for her. Then my girl said "You gotta see it from my bed. It looks different from my bed." Since we downsized our way to New Orleans, our kids share a room and Mackenzie has the top bunk. So we walked over to her room and opened the blinds there. A little different view, she was right. Then she told me, "I open the blinds a little every morning to look at the sunrise when I wake up." This glimpse into her beautiful feminine heart thrilled me! She's a quiet, passive kid who's very likely being failed by her mouthy mom. This morning I had proof that somehow, in spite of my shortcomings as a parent, God has managed to keep intact a treasure chest of rare jewels inside my daughter. When she first rested on my chest, I feared I'd never be able to be good enough for this little gift God had given me. I was right. I'm not good enough. But He is... and she knows He is. She knows enough to wake every morning and spend a moment enjoying the sunrise He's made. I'm often too rushed and too driven to stop and revel in such things. I can hardly imagine she got that idea from me. I fall so short as a mother, and often worry what damage I'm doing to my kids. Today I was told in no uncertain terms that it isn't up to just me. Almighty God is investing in my children in silent, secret, unseen ways that are far beyond my imagination. He's whispering to their souls things only He knows they need. I so often fear my children will turn out like patchwork pieces because of my mistakes. How dare I forget that Someone much more capable is molding them into who He wants them to be. How dare I leave out the fact that He is capable of making them into much more than I could ever hope to make them on my own.