Heaven

We have never had a problem with Lauren and separation anxiety. She's been going to Donna's house since she was 10 weeks old, so it's never really been an issue. In fact, there are times when we see other parents deal with this at church or other places and we count our blessings.

Alright, to be honest, it comes up at times, but it's never been something we spend too much time dwelling on. Lauren has been well-adjusted for a long time to the routine that Mommy and Daddy both work. So Lauren goes to the sitter's house, and one of us picks her up in the afternoon.

The past couple of days have been different. I can tell she's been a little needy, wanting to spend just a couple minutes more with us before we go in different directions or to bed, or whatever. This morning however, was absolutely rich.

As I dropped her off at the sitter's house, she closed the door behind us and stood in front of it. I ask her, "what's up?" She said, "I don't want you to go yet."

I reminded her that if I don't leave right away I'll be late for work. We have this inane online time card thing at work we have to log in to that keeps perfect time, but that's for another post.

As soon as I reminded her that I would be late to work, I could see it in her eyes. She just didn't want me to leave right away. I got it. I saw her body language and praised God for reminding me, I'm a Dad first.

So I stopped trying to move her out of the way, got down on her level and said, "OK, what's up?" and this time I really meant it.

She said, "I want to talk about something."

"Sure, Lovebug (that's my nickname for her), what do you want to talk about?"

"Heaven" was her answer.

"What do you want to know about Heaven," I ask?

"What's it made of?"

Which brings me to one of my parenting styles. I will often answer her question with a question. I know for some people that's real annoying, but I want her to think for herself, not just wait for my answer to every query. So I asked her, "what do you think it's made of?"

"Wood...just like Donna's house." Which brought a chuckle from the other room as Donna was listening to our conversation.

I told her Heaven was more glorious than you could ever imagine, filled with gold and diamonds and all the things we think are precious in this world.

But as I kissed her one more time and she ran off to eat breakfast, I thought to myself, the most precious thing to me is my daughter, and my greatest hope is that she will one day put her faith in Christ so that she will be in Heaven with me. Heaven will then be made up with one of the most precious things I could ever think of.