To prepare my children for a world of puddles, I must learn myself what to do with puddles, how to take the mud with the joy, how to wear the shock of the wet, how to delight in the splash.
To prepare my children for a world of shadows, I must learn how to see the sun in the shadows, and how to trace the dance of light, how to marvel at silhouettes, how not to fear the night.
To prepare my children for a world of unknowns, I must brace myself and unknow all this false security we held for years before this one, and rest when I don't know.
To prepare my children for a world of Day, I must learn the worth of days, and I must learn to face the night that our days may be unafraid.
Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.
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