What I Hope You Already Know

Daddy’s worried about you. 

Actually . . . Daddy worries about you everyday.

We get up at 5:30 every morning. We rush to get your clothes on, check for homework in your backpacks, quick kisses on foreheads, and pats on the butt for good measure. We loudly exchange “Love Yous” as you “walk quickly, don’t run” to the bus stop, narrowly averting it’s departure. If we’re lucky, no one has a meltdown (including Daddy). I kiss Mommy on the forehead as she and your baby sister catch up on sleep that was eluded through their previous nightly routine. I use the drive to work to catch my breath. It’s only 15 minutes, but I make it to work. I drop your little brother off at daycare, and start my day.

Throughout my busy day, I catch myself thinking about your day.

“Did everyone eat breakfast at school?”

“I hope Bubby remembers his spelling words.”

“Were kids mean on the bus?”

“I hope Mommy and sister are having a good day.”

“Did I forget to sign progress reports again? . . . I hope teachers don’t blame you for that.”

Mostly though . . . I’m worried I’ve not done enough for you. You are all great kids. Your teachers and other adults in your life tell me that. So I’m not worried about how you’re acting; Not really.

I’m concerned that when I told you I’m sorry for getting upset at you for not moving quick enough this morning, that you didn’t know I meant it; I’m afraid when I told you ‘I love you’ after getting on to you for bickering back and forth, that I didn’t say it loud enough to cover my frustrated reaction to the situation; I’m worried that, when you get older, the kisses and hugs will not have outweigh my need to let you just be kids, and mess up, and learn from your mistakes with love and grace.

And I’m worried that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and you’re graduating High School, or College, or getting married . . . and I’ve missed enjoying you grow up.

More than anything, I’m worried that in teaching you love and forgiveness are what life's about, I’ve missed tangible opportunities to show both of those to you.

I’m taking time to write this to you so you know how I feel about you: Your Daddy is crazy about you; he’s so proud of each and every one of you; and you can never do anything to make him stop loving you! I know you didn’t mean to spill that, and I know you didn’t mean to break that. I’m not mad at you, even if I get upset. You bring light and joy to my day. You add a beat to my heart.

If there’s anything I want you to learn from me, it’s this -- and I hope you hear the tears in my voice when you read this: You can never love too much. Forgiveness makes your heart lighter. Let grace be what you’re known for. Never be afraid to say you’re sorry.

And always know that I’m here cheering for you. Even when it feels like no one is in your corner, I am. I always will be.

Love Your Biggest Fan, 

Dad

Chris Moss, with his wife Tiffany, keep company with five lively children. He currently resides on the outskirts of St. Louis, Missouri. Chris is the Missional Co-Founder of the grass-roots community organization The Serve Movement. He's a writer, a dreamer, and a voice for the underdog. He can be reached for comment or question at thechristophermoss@gmail.com or on Facebook (www.facebook.com/thechrismoss).