Love Played Out

Last night when Heidi and I were putting the kids to bed, I bent down, kissed Lukas and told him that I loved him. When I asked him if he knew that I loved him, he said, “Yes.” Then, probing a little deeper, I asked: “How do you know that I love you?” Snuggling under the covers and closing his eyes, he nonchalantly replied: “Because you play with me.” The answer took me by surprise. What about going to work to pay the bills? What about giving him a bath or helping him tie his shoelaces? What about helping him, uh, wipe after going potty? I guess to kids all that stuff doesn’t mean much. Those things don’t touch the heart or “say” anything to them. Play is life to a kid. It’s their vocation, and when we play with them we enter their world—a world of imagination, joy and even love.

Our brief bedtime talk caused me to ponder how often I miss the opportunity to love (play) in order to do things more important to me like: sit at the computer, tidy the house or watch the Bears. Play should be easy for a dad, but many times it isn’t. It requires that we stop doing what we want and involve ourselves in what someone else wants. It also requires that we suspend our notion of what we think love is, and find out—from those we seek to love—what they think love is.

In the end it’s all pretty simple. But sometimes we need children to reminder us of the simple things, and the important things. Hopefully I’ll be a bit more eager to play with my kids the next time they ask me to, since what they’re really asking is: “Do you love me?”