The time was precisely seven in the morning.

The blinds in the darkened living room were being twisted, releasing a flood of light to wake me from my sleep. If that weren't enough to pull me from my dreams, the clanging of the coffee mugs & sounding microwave alarm announcing the steamy hot water did the trick well. Early rising for not only the morning people but those sleeping on your couch, the result of spending the night at my parents. Ever since I was a little girl the routine never changed. Mom wakes up with dad, starting his & her cups of coffee while he rolls out of bed. From there, they meet in the living room, over their coffee spilling their fears about their children, stories from their jobs, & expectations for their day. Unfortunately, their soft whispers aren't enough to speak peace to my soul. They talk, not only moving their thoughts, but also mine. I have the tendency to 'sleep' through their conversations to see what I might hear, but this morning they weren't the only ones who wanted an early start. I needed to get to my sisters' make up stash before the lioness awoke from her pretty dreams & distorted her face with rage. So I hopped up, perfecting my own cup of joe, & chiming in the conversation. 

Nothing unusual, mom went up to get ready, & dad came down with a word for me. Taking us both back to those days in the old grey house with the little girl & the prince-charming father, he told me to listen closely. "I may have said this to you a few times. & all I want is for you to not respond with 'I know'. I want you to really listen to what I'm saying & know it's only for you- not for anybody else. Not your sister, not your brothers. This is special for you." So I listened as my father told me what I was like when I was a little girl. He related it to God's love, not having words to fully detail the big picture, but some adjectives fell from his lips. Almost angelic. Raw heart. Something inside of me cracked. He pressed on. It wasn't like I lived in my own fairy tale, but I was different. Special. I cared so much, so deeply. So authentic. Unselfish. 

Teenage years hit & he thought the little girl was gone. Nothing bad, just your average teenage girl testing waters & getting roughed up by the world. He wondered how God could let it happen. Something so special, so different, ruined beyond recognition by the world around. Until around a year ago. Things would happen, life would take over, & every once in a while he saw her. The little girl would shine through, her heart detached from fear. She was in there! She never left. Beneath the callouses & hurt she lay untouched, beautiful as ever. She was in there. 

This is how he left it. No great conclusion to put a wrap on things, no solution to pull the little girl out. Only the encouragement of the little girl he knew was still in there, waiting to be revealed. The special brilliance God created, awaiting its reveal of heaven on earth. 

In some areas in Africa, the people greet each other with a phrase that translates to 'I see you'. Like my dad's words for me this morning, I don't have a great closing. Only a challenge to see & be seen. We have distanced ourselves from everyone around us. Think about the first place you stand in the elevator. Furthest away from everyone else, right? Texting & skype have replaced hospitality. I'm not bashing anything, I partake in all- just making you think. When you pass a stranger, do you look at your shoes or look the other way, pretending not to notice? Hold your heart out there, don't shelter the heaven God placed inside of you. Everything He has given you was given to you with one purpose- to be spilled.