come

Monday, October 22, 2012


The invitation. Come. See.

It is more than a desire to share what is waiting to be shown, it is a request from a place of deep need. Come. Be with me. Show me that you care. Tell me that I matter. Come, come and be with me.

I go. She shows. She smiles. My heart smiles back, as well as my lips. That is it. It only takes a moment, usually no longer.

Just a moment. These are the words I say to my children all too often. But when I finally turn around ready, they are gone. That moment, the opportunity to speak so much more clearly than do words as to the worth of my children's souls - gone. I missed it. I miss many of them. How much more effort and time would it take to just go - drop what I'm doing and go? So much less than the heartache that follows neglected moments. So, I tell myself, go... go when they ask, the first time they ask. That will never be regretted - only cherished.

I pray daily that my children will feel my love. How much more likely are they to feel that love through the things I do, the time that I offer, than that of mere words. All too often I offer lip service, terms of endearment. They, sincere and heartfelt, can accompany my actions, but they are certainly not nourishment enough to fill that vessel that is a child's soul. The invitation of come must be accepted when delivered, otherwise we will miss the occasion of touching spirit to spirit with our children.