I love children. If they weren’t taught to behave, well, they get on my nerves, but I still love them.

I have two beautiful daughters. You’ve likely heard all about my
youngest, Gabrielle, by now. She’s adorable. Sweet disposition, smiles
for everyone.

I think I’ve mentioned my oldest, Kaylie Jordan, once. I lived for that
child. When I was still married, my wife told me once that she wondered
if I loved my daughter more than I did her. Well, now that I think
about it… I do, and did. She is… was… such a joy. The problem is,
I haven’t seen my little girl since November of 2001. I talked to her
for roughly 9 months afterwards, and didn’t hear from her mother at all
till early in 2003. I got to talk to her for about 5 minutes, and that
was the last time I heard from her. I miss her more than I can say. I
have pictures, but… I can’t look at them today. So I’m not going to
post them. Hopes has seen a couple of them.

I… as much as I love Gabby – which i truly think is just as much as I
love Kaylie, I couldn’t help it, as soon as I woke up this morning,
just hugging Gabby to my chest and whispering, with tears running down
my face, that i wish she could see her big sister. I won’t say she’s in
my mind constantly. I’d be lying. In a lot of ways, I try *not* to
think of her too much – because it HURTS. It’s been a year and a half
since I’ve talked to her, and close to 3 years since I’ve seen her, and
it’s still like an open wound.

She was.. is (I think of her in past-tense, sometimes – I think it’s a
sign of mourning… but I try to fight that tendency.) just the
sweetest little thing you’ve ever seen. Blue eyes, blond hair, in curls
down her back (even at 2 and a half). She was Daddy’s Little Girl. I
just really don’t know what to say about her, now. I can still see the
look on her face, the day I had to leave for Mississippi. I stayed as
long as I could. I think I had a pseudo-breakdown when I got divorced,
and I was really a mess. I had left the military, I couldn’t hold a
job, cause I’d just break down in the middle of work… it was not
pretty. If you’ve ever seen a grown man cry in the middle of a
warehouse full of other men, you’ll know exactly what i mean. I was
seriously out of it. I stayed as long as i could, solely to see my
daughter, as long as possible. My wife, as bad as we’d been to each
other, knew that that girl meant the world to me. She let me have her
the whole week before I left, and oh… the look my little girl gave
me, after I’d held her tight, for about 5 minutes, it seemed… it
broke my heart. I see that little face while dreaming, every so often,
and I wake up choking off a scream.

My ex-wife took at look at my face, and she todl me that if I didn’t go
now, I’d never be able to make myself do it. I think she was right. I
had my car packed up, and I drive about 25 miles, tears streaming,
until I finally couldn’t see. At a gas station, out in the middle of
nowhere – in the middle of the desert, i pulled off, sat at a filthy
picnic table, and cried – I think it was 2 hours. I’m not quite sure.
Several people asked me if i was alright – I told them “no” – but that
I would be, in a little while. I *think* they understood me, but I’m
not sure.

Finally, a policeman – I don’t know if someone called him, or he just
stopped by – probably the former – pulled up, and talked to me. I was
cried out, worn out, and wrung out, by this point. I looked a wreck,
and I felt it. He asked me what was wrong. I told him – “I just left
the person I love most in this entire world, in the hands of a person I
hate most”. His first question was “your ex?” I could only nod. He
talked to me for a minute or two, and told me to stay safe.

i just sat there, and smoked cigarettes, for another two hours. I’ve
never come closer to suicide than that moment. Only two things kept me
from it – a merry-go-round of images – her birth, her smiling, her
laugh, her face, while sleeping – and a little voice, almost too subtle
to notice, reminding me that I was God’s child.

Something I will NEVER forget, as long as I live. I believe that this
was the one and only time I’ve heard something directly from my Lord. I
heard it, clear as day. Remember – I’m in the middle of the Arizona
desert. I grew up there.


A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows, Is God in His
holy habitation. God makes a home for the lonely; He leads out the
prisoners into prosperity, Only the rebellious dwell in a parched land.

I heard that, clear as bell, in my head. I don’t think i’d heard that verse in years. I’d never connected it with me.


A Father for the fatherless

God, I just want you to know, tonight, that I remember your promise.
I’m crying right now, writing this, and i can barely see the keys. but
Happy Father’s day. Please, watch over her for me. She was, and is,
yours, to begin with – but you know how much i love her. Just keep an
eye on her. Most importantly, bring her to know You. I don’t know how
I’d stand not seeing her when i see You. Please grant my prayer. be a
father to the fatherless.