This evening, I went up to tuck two of our daughters in. This is my beloved chore every night. We have a little liturgy that includes some responsive prayers, a blessing, and a benediction. I then pull up their covers and tuck them in.

As I was doing this tonight, something caught my eye. It was a note on the window sill. The handwriting was well known to me. I picked it up and read it. This is what it said.

I am alone. I hate being alone. I want someone to talk to. I want someone to play with.

I NEED someone to talk to. I NEED someone to play with.

I have no one to play with or talk to.

I am looking out the window waiting for them to come home.

You see, today, several of my older daughters went to town and took some of the younger children. Only a couple of children stayed home to do school work.

I felt a weight come over me. I went to my daughter, the one I was sure was the forlorn author. I showed her the note and said in my most loving fatherly voice, “Dear one, you can always come see me if you need someone to play with or talk to.”

She looked at me and replied, “But Daddy, I did come to you. But you said you were too busy.”

Yes. I was busy. I have been busy. We have had company all week, and fellowship meals several days of this week. Today, I was very busy writing a sermon. Busy, busy, busy.

When she said this, I remembered her coming to me. I remember telling her I was busy. And I felt the weight of my failings as a father. I asked her to forgive me.

How thankful I am our Father knows our frame. How thankful I am that He is always there—that He is never too busy. Help me, Lord, to be more like You.

Galatians 4:6–7 (NKJV) And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.