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Her broken heart is my broken heart

I don’t normally post on Saturdays, but I had a thought today that I wanted write about.

My friend called me at 10:00 am this morning with free tickets to go to the Mickey Mouse Club House live.
He knows how much my little girl, Isabelle, loves Mickey.  She really does.  She is three by the way.

She also has an unbelievable fear of:  loud noises, large crowds and large stuffed characters.

This is a fear she battles with.  When I told her about our opportunity this morning she started  trying to talk herself into being brave, she started faking  a smile and really wanted to go and really didn’t all at the same time.

Long story short, we made it to the lobby and then she could not handle it.

After a few minutes of trying to talk her down, I bailed.

When we got outside I could tell her heart was broken.  With a shaky voice she asked,

“Daddy, why I don’t like Mickey…can we try again nextday when I will be braver?”

My heart broke.

For just a second I felt like God may feel when I lose a battles that wages in my heart.
The good news is that I also realized in that moment that I want nothing more than to see Izzy win this battle.
I think God feels the same about me.


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