Why do you love me?

Ani, why do you love me? I haven't cured you, I don't spend every waking moment with you.
Why do you forgive me? After what I let happen to you? After having yelled at you during the year of pain?
Why do you brighten at my touch? I'm sinful, I'm imperfect, I don't deserve you.
Why are you spiritual? You have every reason to hate God, yet you said yes and were baptized?
How is it that we keep each other going? I can't do it by myself, you pull more than your own weight.
Ani, even though I question myself, my love for you is eternal and unwavering.
You are amazing, heroic, and simply beautiful.
I love being your dad.

Life is too short to hold back

From expressing your emotions.
Too short to not tell your parents how much you appreciate them.
Too short to lie, emotionally, to your children. Admit when you're scared, but brave enough to do something anyway.
Too short to just let your spouse "be at your side". Tell them that they _are_ your side, you would be unbalanced without them.
Too short to notice beauty all around you.
In people, their actions, their strengths, even their weaknesses.
In the world, the colors, smells and music of a rainstorm.
In yourself, try to humbly see the beauty of the only person that is you.
Too short to not jump in a puddle.
Too short to not through your head back and laugh, deeply, when joy is felt.
Too short to not encourage each other to be brave in struggles, for _all_ struggles are difficult. There are no "absolute measures" of struggles.
Too short to not stop once in a while, look inside, see what you see, and decide if part of you must be discarded.
Too short to not stop once in a while, look up, search for a purpose, and follow it with your heart.
Too short to not give a high-five to your coworkers, no matter the measure of victory.

Too short to not look for a life beyond this one.

A candle in the sky

A candle was lit about 8 years ago. 

It shown so brightly. 

I remember the warmth, the way it lit my path. 

I remember feeding the flame, hoping I would guide its growth. 

Alas, the candle no longer burns where I can see it directly. 

When I want to find it, I have to look inside. 

I find that I no longer have to feed it, that it's already in a place of light and warmth. 

Its flicker catches my attention every day, and I ponder. 

I do my assigned work and duty, and do not fear the time that is coming.

The time when my light joins his and His. 

The time when there are no shadows to confuse me. 

The time when I will never fear getting burned. 

The time when my tears will never threaten to put out my own flame. 

The time without end. 

Ease my heart and help me remember what is lasting

I just ran across Ani's 5th grade class photo. The first thing that came to mind was: "What's my daughter doing in a wheelchair in front of the class with a nothing look on her face?". Please, Lord, please help my subconscious stop doing that to me. I do _not_ feel that way. The way I feel is that my daughter is one of the strongest people I know. Going through stuff that would crush me, and never let me smile, much less sing along. My heart is with her victories. My heart is with how far she has come. My heart is with her perseverance, her stubbornness to stay close to _my_ heart.

Heart to heart, Lord, I think that's how you want us to be with each other. Not by judging our outside looks, or our temporary mistakes or missteps.

A revelation on joy

I remember back just after the tornado, when I described to my pastor, how deep inside me I felt this big connection to Jesus? I was thinking about that when our pastor was speaking Sunday about joy and Paul in prison. I remember that time after the tornado that while I felt Jesus with me, I couldn't laugh. Not just the giggle or funny laugh, but the big, deep down laugh that makes you look up to the sky and you feel it throughout your soul. Today I just realized that those laughs come from the same place inside me where the connection to Jesus lives. The real laugh of joy comes from there. I know that now, and will try to remember that from now on. I hope I can relate this revelation to others in times of grief or great stress. A laugh _that_ deep should always remind you of your relationship with Christ. I have been able to laugh like that whenever Ani had even a minor victory. We know that we would never have made it through this without Christ, and now I know another way he keeps us going in times of great difficulty.