Do you want to play with me?

Children have ways of saying things that just cut you to the quick. They don’t realize it, but you hear the words, and, whammo, they’ve got you. Today’s example: my four-year-old daughter Laura.

Laura loves her daddy time, and loves to play. Some days it’s Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders; other days it’s playing “horsies” in her room (we each get a toy horse and have pretend conversations!); other times we play hide and seek in the house. (She always hides the same place: under the covers on our bed.) And when she wants me to play with her, she always asks the question the same way.

“Daddy, do you want to play with me?”

It’d be so much easier if she asked “Daddy, will you play with me?” or “Daddy, can you play with me?”. Because then at times I could respond “sorry, Daddy can’t right now” and just go back to whatever else I am doing. But instead she asks “Daddy, do you want to play with me?” and then I’m forced to check my motives.

Too often my first (internal) reaction is something along the lines of “but I was just checking my email” or “no, I want to finish reading this article online”. And then I’m convicted. Shouldn’t I really want to play with her?

Time moves fast. Laura is already four. Next year she’ll start school of some sort. We won’t always have time to play horsies or hide and seek or Candyland. When I stop to think about it, I really do want to spend the time with my girls that I’ve been given right now. Facebook, email, and blogs can wait. So I’m thankful that God can use even my daughter’s simple requests for Daddy time to convict me of my own selfishness. So if this blog sits dormant from time to time, or I don’t respond to your email very quickly, be patient: I might just be playing horsies.