Is she your daughter?

Is that your daughter? You would think such a simple question would get a get a simple answer. My mouth usually says "yes" and my heart thinks something else. Its not just Emma, its my other daughter and son too.

My heart says "No, they are not mine, they are God's children and I am only lucky enough to be borrowing them for a while." How easy it is to forget in the every day hussle and bussle of doctors appointments, school days, chores and the such that they are not mine. They are truly God's children. And I say a prayer of thanks everyday that they are with me, and that they are healthy.


Ever since my little friend Daniel died, I have thought more and more each day about how short life truly is. My father died when I was 6. I have a few memories of him but not as many as I wish I had. I try each day to do something special with my kids to build some memories for them "just in case" and I take each of those memories into my own heart, just in case God decides unexpectdly to take one of them home. Every moment is precious. Each day is a blessing from above that must be treasured.

Remember these things next time you are rushing to get them out the door for school, or complaining that the drive time to soccer practice is too long. These are the times they will remember, these are the times you will remember.

Here is a poem that was read when my nephew Gabriel died in June 2004. Its beautiful and speaks the things I feel much better than the few words in this blog.

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God's Loan
by Krista Burell

"I'll lend to you for a little time,
A child of mine," He said,
"For you to love the while he lives
And mourn for when he's dead.

"It may be six or seven years
Or twenty-two or three,
But will you till I call him back,
Take care of him for me?

"He'll bring his charms to gladden you
And should his stay be brief,
You'll have these precious memories
As solace for your grief.

"I cannot promise he will stay
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.

"I've looked this world over,
In my search for teachers true.
In the crowds that throng life's land,
I have selected you.

"Now will you give him all your love
Not think the labour vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
To take him back again?"

It seems to me I heard them say,
"Dear Lord, thy will be done.
For all the joys a child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.

"We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known
Forever grateful stay.

"And should the angels call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand."