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Why I Go To Church - A Series (Part 1)

A Third Grade Daughter


Every morning, you walk out of your room,

That blonde bedhead hair flying all around in disarray,

Sleepy eyes adjusting to the LED lights.


You take my breath away. 

I cannot look at you now without seeing you

 in all your various stages.

The chubby legs you had as a baby,

 what I'd always wanted - a healthy baby.

Now, your legs barely fill out her leggings.


What is with this leggings stage anyway?

I still see the toddler changing into three or four

 princess dresses a day.

Don't forget the crown and wand,

 high heels three times the size of your feet.

Your favorite color was always pink

 until Elsa blue came along.

Of course, now Elsa is for babies.


I look at your hands, and immediately

 images of them holding a frog or a snake or a flower

 come to mind. 

You've always learned by putting your hands on things.


The most pleasant surprise, to me,

 is how much I like you. 

I can't always separate being your parent

 from being your friend.

Maybe I don't have to.


God made you and it was very good.

I feel like I'm finally starting to get to know you.

I feel like you're finally getting to know yourself. 


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