Kick the Ball High Daddy

My favorite part of my day is playing outside with my boys in the evening.  We ride cars and push wagons and play ball.  After we have sweated a ton, we eat a popsicle on the kitchen floor and get ready for bed.

As we have been learning to catch and throw and kick, something interesting has happened lately.  I keep trying to share the ball with the boys, but their favorite thing is not to have the ball.

They want Dad to have it.

“Daddy, kick the ball high?”  And so I kick it high, they run and get it, and they bring it back.  “Daddy, kick the ball high?”

“It’s OK, buddy.  You can kick it high.  Here you go.”

“Daddy, kick the ball high?”

They know they can kick it and that is fun, but Dad can kick it higher.  And for whatever reason, watching their Father kick it higher is better than them kicking it themselves.

What if I lived that way?  What if I became more obsessed with what my Heavenly Father could do rather than my meager attempts?  What if I handed the ball to him and said, “You kick it high, Daddy!”  What if I stopped trying to impress others with my attempts at greatness and just shone the spotlight on my Heavenly Father.

Today, Dad, kick it high.  I’ll run and bring it back to you over and over again, because there is nothing like seeing what your hands are able to do.

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