God May Not Have Woken Up

Hey son…
I woke up this morning to you sticking your finger in my right nostril.
I didn’t open my eyes because I was intrigued as to your intentions.
You were doing it very lightly as if not to wake me.
You moved to my eye lids.
Rubbing them lightly.
You then traced your finger down to my lips.
You plucked them like someone would a bass guitar.
I heard a giggle.
Then your tiny finger traced its way to my ears.
My ears are really ticklish so it took all I had to not bust out laughing.
But I was intrigued.
And then yes…you traced your way around the maze in my earlobe like the race car driver you dream of being…
All the while making those race car sounds…
“vrmmmmmm, eeeerrrrrrrkkkkkkkkk, pckwshhhhhhhh”
Your hand then slowly traced its way to my chest.
It stopped there, flat against it.
I could literally FEEL you staring at me and FEELING my heart beat.
Your wispy hair then landed in my chest and I felt your breathing slow down.
It wasn’t long before you were back asleep after searching every crease in your fathers face for a good 10 minutes.

I shed but a single tear of joy that you just wanted to see my face and know it so deeply.
I shed another that I had not done that with my Father in a long time.
Just staring at His face with no more intention than just wanting to know His face better.

Thanks for the lesson kid.
And thanks for not sticking your finger in my mouth.
God may not have woken up, but I would have.