“Mama! I see you!” calls a sweet little voice from the backseat. A voice that belongs to our youngest daughter, a child who had never known a “mama” until we brought her home from India in October.
“I see you!” she playfully yells again.
She sees me.
She sees me when I sing lullabies to her at bedtime. Yet she sees me when I sigh in frustration over cooking  another dinner.
She sees me laugh at one of my son’s jokes. Yet she sees me roll my eyes in frustration at another disobeyed order.
She sees me lovingly stroke my middle daughter’s hair when she’s sick. Yet she sees me lose my temper over a poor attitude.
She sees me hanging out with my teen. Yet she sees me nag about undone chores.
She sees me hug my husband. Yet she sees me huff in disappointment over an unmet expectation.
She sees me sing praise to Jesus. Yet she sees me cry in frustration over how hard life can sometimes be.
She sees me.
Who is watching you today? What do they see?
(Credit for header photo: Three Chicks Pics)