You Knew Me; You Know My Regrets

My heart breaks for the loss of a child.  I cry for the mother's pain, the father's, the family's.  Prayer requests for children, babies, and mothers are the most difficult for me.  My prayers go to God mottled with tear drops.

Psalm 139:15

Your eyes beheld my limbs, yet unfinished in the womb;
all of them were written in your book.

Yet,  this deepest of empathy is contrasted with my daily struggle to find the spirit to play with my own children.  I daily regret not playing enough with my children.  Somehow, all that seems required leaves me without the desire to play.  I wonder, how can I feel so deeply about another's life, and still continue to avoid what my children need?  When my heart breaks for a child lost, how does that not bring me back to my own?

The radio station, WXPN, runs an advertisement that says something like "the most important thing our children need to learn is how to play."  Excuse me, I beg to differ.  Children know quite well how to play.  It is me that needs to play with them, encourage and nourish their creative play.

This is my daily regret; this is my daily confession.