One of the most interesting things about being a parent, to me, is how much more my understanding of Heavenly Father has grown.
For instance: two days ago we started swim lessons. My girls LOVED it. Actually got upset when they had to get out of the pool. They dove right in, bobbing their heads under water, kicking their powerful little legs, and slapping the water with those tiny, tan arms. And as I sat and watched them, the thoughts came to my head: "they are just amazing. Really, AMAZING! They could be Olympic athletes! I bet they are faster than any other kid. I guess I'd better get ready for them to break some world records."
I am not even kidding. Those were my thoughts! Are my kids swimming prodigies? Probably not (although they are pretty good). Will they be going to the Olympics? Also, probably not (mainly because R. told me she doesn't want to swim in front of a big crowd). But as a parent, that is what you do. You look at this tiny, amazing creature that you somehow made and think of their wonderful potential. Do you think swim lessons were the first time I'd had those thoughts? Of course not! When R. was in soccer at 4 years old I thought "boy, she could be the next Mia Hamm! She's going to be a great soccer player for sure!" And when it turned out that she hated stealing the ball, but loved to run after everyone, I thought "what a runner! She'll be a distance runner for sure! I bet she could run races against the best and win." And when she bossed around the other kids and told them to be better at sharing, I thought "she is going to be an amazing leader one day! What leadership potential--she will be great!"
Because that is part of our jobs as parents. It is to look at your kids and see just how amazing they are, and all the amazing things they might be. There are these moments where you look at your child and it's like all of time just stops. Like you are seeing all of the hopes and dreams and work of so many past generations, and the wildly hopeful futures of many more, and they are all there, resting with that little kid who has no idea how awe-inspiring their parent thinks they are.
It is like that with Heavenly Father, I think. We go about our days, worried about this and that, pushing through the everyday stuff. And I wouldn't doubt that at every, silly point Heavenly Father is cheering us on, wishing we could see our potential the way He does. Hoping that we could see how simply amazing He knows us to be. Because He knows where we came from, and He knows our divine potential, and He knows the generations who waited and worked and watched for you, and the generations who are yet to come who have put their hope in you. He knows us, as a parent knows a child. And He loves us. And He knows that you are amazing.
