My middle son, Ethan, is so fascinating to me. Depending on the moment, he might either knock me down to get me to hold him or else throw a fit if I even try to touch him. He’s three.
So the other day in our van, I reached back to tickle his knee, as every good parent periodically does. But rather than rewarding me with a giggle or a pleased grin, he just looked away and sort of harrumphed at me. Nevertheless, I reminded myself that such tickling is always driven by more than just the selfish desire to have my affection reciprocated.
Although I enjoy simply expressing my love for him through touch, the most important reason to tickle or caress or hug or hold Ethan is because I want to continuously send him the message that I am glad he is my son and I love him deeply.
And even if that message doesn’t seem to be received on any one particular occasion, I think I’ll just do what God does for us: continue sending it every chance I get. Regardless of whether he wants it, it’s my job to know he needs this from his daddy.
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