I debated the matter over the next few days. I was sure I wanted to get some of the weight off my chest and I was sure being forgiven would do that as well as ease my guilty conscience. I mean, if God could forgive me, couldn't everyone else? So then I wouldn't even need to ask everybody else.
I realized what I was thinking and wondered when I even began to believe in God. I really do believe in him now, but I never have before, so why would I now? What changed all of it? Was it my little girl's newfound faith and the love she has for this deity? A kind of love for something that can't be seen and that I've never seen before in a child her age. She'd been praying every night that her mommy and daddy would find Jesus. She was barely 4! How did she even know what that meant? She was changing my way of thinking for sure; making me question things I hadn't thought about since I was 10 years old. My mom used to take me to church and I hated it, I slept through every sermon. Now that would be rude, but then it was fine because I was a little kid. I wonder if I could have been like her, knowing Jesus since I was 4 years old. Knowing love that's unconditional since I was little and feeling secure because I know God had a plan for everyone and everything.
That's what she'd told me last night, "God has a plan for you Daddy."
"What?" I'd asked her.
"God has a plan for you. The teacher said God has a plan for everybody. Whether they talk to him or not. Do you talk to Jesus, Daddy?"
"Yeah." I'd lied to her, not wanting to get into that conversation then. Does God have a plan for me then? Did I want to know what it was? I'd felt a nagging at my heart, a pull to ask Him. I almost did, too. But I shrugged away the feeling. I'd gone without Jesus long enough; I can go without Him a lot longer.
"Sleep." I'd told her as I'd left.
"Okay, Daddy." She'd whispered as she'd rolled over and stuck her thumb in her mouth.
