Saturday, September 5, 2009

My dad

I've realized something today.

My dad coming to help me paint my bedroom has less to do than me and more to do with him.

He's bored, and he's not doing this for me, he's doing this for him.
Coming to help me he has to travel with mom and all of mom's medicine and equipment. He has to worry about mom. He has to mix and paint and clean and think and paint some more.

I'm sure he doesn't realize this, I can tell by the way he acts, in his mind he's saving his poor single daughter. He's taking care of me. And I guess I'm a good enough daughter that I'm willing to let him.

Dear God, help me remember that often life isn't about me. It's more often than not about my friends and family and how we take care of each other. Give me the insight to tell the difference, and the grace to do what's best. Amen.

1 comment:

morethananelectrician said...

Him helping you can really be about you helping him...funny how that works, huh?

I think my michigan trip was kind of similar.

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