Two songs every father needs to hear

“Let them be little”

I came across a song a couple weeks ago that’s been part of my daily listening habits ever since.

I can remember when you fit in the palm of my hand.

You felt so good in it, no bigger than a minute.

How it amazes me, you’re changing with every blink.

Faster than a flower blooms they grow up all too soon.

It was about 9:00 on a Monday night. I was working the late shift and after hearing the chorus, I was so glad I was alone.

Let them be little, cause they’re only that way for a while.

Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day.

Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle.

Oh, but let them be little.

I had just said goodbye to them 24 hours earlier and I would soon be headed home to the same bed where they had slept next to me with their sweet, little bodies nestled close to mine.

I was grateful for the time we’d spent together, but at that moment I missed them and began to cry.

“Had a moment of tenderness for my kids,” I wrote on Facebook. “I love being their daddy more than anything.”

The next weekend they were here, I played it for them in the car and was touched by a different part of the song.

So innocent, a precious soul, turn around and it’s time to let them go.

I knew they’d be going back with their mom the next day and once again the tears came.

“Do you like this song, daddy?” Mandy asked.

“Yes I do,” I said. “It’s about a daddy who loves his kids just like I love you.”

“Are you crying?”

“Yes,” I said.


“Because I wish we could be together all the time,” I said. “One day things will work out so that we can be together for a long time.”

“Help Pour out the rain”

Just this last week, I woke up one morning with these lyrics running through my mind.

The moment was custom-made to order.

I was riding with my daughter on our way back from Monroe.

And like children do, she started playing 20 questions.

And I never would’ve guessed one could touch me to my soul.

Then comes the chorus.

She said ‘Daddy when we get to Heaven, can I taste the Milky Way?

Are we going there to visit, or are we going there to stay?

Am I gonna see my grandpa? Can I have a pair of wings?

And do you think that God could use another angel to help pour out the rain?

I wasn’t really thinking about what I was singing. It was just one of those moments when a song you remember randomly comes to mind.

Several days later, I felt inclined to listen to it again on my way to work. The second verse following the chorus goes like this.

Well, I won’t lie. I pulled that car right over.

I sat there on the shoulder trying to dry my misty eyes.

Then came the tear-jerking part.

And I whispered ‘Lord, I wanna thank you for my children.

Cause your innocence that builds them often takes me by surprise.

As the chorus began to play again, I thought of all the times in the car she played 20 questions with me — one after another. For some dads, it could be annoying.

Not to me.

I promised myself when the separation and the divorce happened that I would cherish every moment with them and never get upset with her for asking lots of questions. If her dad won’t answer her questions, somebody else will and it may not be an answer I like.

So, I’ll happily answer every question, no matter how superficial or silly, because that’s one way I say “I love you.”

When the line, “Am I gonna see my grandpa?” played over the speaker, I replaced the word “grandpa” with “grandma.”

Mandy’s great-grandmother died a year ago, and she’s asked me many times,

“When is Grandma Gail coming back?”

This question has provided many opportunities to teach her about heaven, the eternal nature of families and that grandma is not coming back, but that we will, indeed, see her again someday.

She loves her grandma, and I’m grateful that she has warm memories of her great grandma just like I did for mine at that age.

The last rendition of the chorus pretty much sums it up.

Lord, when I get to Heaven, can I taste the Milky Way?

I don’t want to come to visit ’cause I’m coming home to stay.

I can’t wait to see my family and meet Jesus face-to-face.

And do you think, Lord, you could use another angel to help pour out the rain?

I can’t wait to see my kids again, and I look forward to the day when we’ll be together forever with Heavenly Father.