The Bridge That Dad Built

When you look out of my parents’ windows, you see a beautiful view.

There’s a small lake (complete with it’s own alligator), fountains, and palm trees.

And there’s a beautiful bridge. My dad designed it, and built it with the help of other volunteers here in the village.

I love that bridge.

I love the view, but I also love how it reminds me of so many things that make me feel proud to have the dad I do. He’s creative, hard-working, and knows how to get stuff done. He always pays attention to the small details, and looks for beauty in everything. If he can’t find any, he creates it. He helps other people find it, too.

I also love that bridge because of this: There are some retired missionary ladies living here in the village who go for walks regularly, and they told my parents that every time they walk over Dad’s bridge, they pray for my parents and our family.

So now, every time I look at the bridge, I think of those walking, praying ladies, and of all the love that gets passed around in this little village.

And here’s the really fun part – it’s become a favorite destination for both my girls. No walk is complete without ending up at this little bridge.

We took a walk before supper last night, and it was quiet and beautiful and wonderful.

This single parenting thing definitely has its tiring, difficult moments, but when we’re outside on a perfect evening, and the sun is just right, and the moment becomes magical, then it’s all good.

Maybe this bridge of prayer will become my reminder, too. Maybe I will pray that I would find the magic in every moment, even the difficult ones.

Because you can almost always find the beauty, but if there is none, then you need to create it.


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