I have a little gadget on the side of my page that shows my followers. Some of them are friends that I've known a long time. Some of them are people I've "met" very recently. I like meeting new people (and if you're new, I'm glad you're here). It's fun -- and a little flattering -- to find in the morning when I come to my page that someone else wants to read these l'il ole thoughts of mine. But I have to admit, I have a favorite follower. And her picture doesn't appear in the sidebar. And she isn't a fan on Facebook.
It's Baby Girl. She's my favorite. (I didn't think you'd mind.) She's not nearly as flattering as all of you. She doesn't leave kind comments or encouraging words. She's very vocal about her thoughts, and they aren't always kind. She's even picked up some of my habits and flaunts them in my face.
She follows me into the bathroom and dumps out my makeup while I try to get ready. She follows me into the kitchen and pulls out the Tupperware as I cook. She follows me into the family room and spills out the books so we can read together. She follows me into the living room and climbs on my lap, with a pen in her mouth, as I type. If I stay too long, she pulls at my hands and voices her displeasure at my lack of focus --on her. She is an attention hog and is unabashed about showing it. Her love for me is fierce and jealous. How can she not be my favorite?
And this is what scares me and humbles me: she follows me . . . and imitates me. Father, have mercy on me and help me. Because this I know right now:
"In my daughter's eyes, I am a hero.
I am strong and wise,
And I know no fear.
But the truth is plain to see:
She was sent to rescue me,
I see who I want to be, in my daughter's eyes.
And when she wraps her hand around my finger,
Oh, it puts a smile in my heart.
Everything becomes a little clearer.
I realize what life is all about.
It's hanging on when your heart has had enough;
It's giving more when you feel like giving up.
I've seen the light: it's in my daughter's eyes. . .
In my daughter's eyes, I can see the future.
A reflection of who I am,
And what will be.
And though she'll grow and, some day, leave:
Maybe raise a family,
When I'm gone, I hope you'll see,
How happy she made me,
For I'll be there, in my daughter's eyes."
--from Martina McBride's "In My Daughter's Eyes"
I always hope that what I write encourages my followers and inspires them (you) to either laugh or love or live more deeply. While I write for myself, it is my followers that inspire me to write better and more often.
And while I live for God, it is my favorite follower who inspires me to live better. For it's in her beautiful eyes that I see myself -- and the reflection I want to see more and more is Christ, the One I follow.
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