I used to sing to my daughter at night. Then I sang to my oldest son. Now I sing to my youngest son as I put him to sleep. But I have to tell you how it all started. My wife loves to sing. In fact, she has a song for everything. So, during the day and at night, my wife would always sing to our daughter. I don’t know how old she was, but I think she was only about a year old. I was walking by her room as my wife was putting her to sleep, and I heard her singing “Jesus loves me.” I thought that was pretty cool. You know, sing her a little ditty right before laying her down to sleep. Then, only a week or so later I was walking by the room as my wife was putting her to sleep again. Now, you have to understand that my daughter could barely talk at this point. She was just forming words. But as I stood by the door, I could hear her start to sing with my wife, forming words into song that she couldn’t even understand. The words of that song have never meant more to me than in that moment, hearing a 1 year old singing sweetly and softly in her mother’s arms, “Jesus wubs me, ‘dis I know, for the Bi-bo tews me so. Witto ones to him bewong. Dey are weak, but he is stwong. Yes, Jesus wubs me. Yes, Jesus wubs me.” I knew that truth for me, and for her more in that moment than ever before. And of course, as I stood at the door and listened, I did what any good father at this point would do – I cried tears of joy.
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