I remember Him.

I gaze upon them before I part.

They lie in their bed, unaware of me watching.

I leave,

they sleep.

The small home I help provide is their world.

They play, they explore,

learning to move, to feel,

to see, to know,

not once thinking how it all came to be.

Crayons, toys, books; it's all for them.

The fridge opens, the pantry exposed,

they expect food to be there.

Not a thought, not a doubt,

just hunger.

Cereal, milk, yogurt, messy fingers, messy faces, all fed.

Tummies are full.

Now it's nap time.

My wife likes nap time.

Once again, they lay in the comfort we provide.

All while I work,

I'm far, but close;

always thinking of them.

My phone rings, I only hear breathing.

I smile; my wife's phone is now missing.

I do it all for them.

I work, that they may grow.

They trust so deeply;

how I yearn to do the same.

They see so little of how it all came to be,

never questioning,

only trusting.

I come home; two-second hugs.

Now I'm a horse.

We eat dinner, brush teeth.

Jammy time.

Finally, it's bed time.

Once again, they lay their heads on the pillows we provide.

I will be their protector. I will be their gentle friend.

I will be my wife's faithful husband.

I am a father,

I am also a son.

And while I may not understand all that He does for me,

I do know that all that I am, and all that I have is because He's a father to me.

I now stand, very aware,

of how it all came to be.