My daughter is fourteen. Fourteen is a tough year, if you recall. She and I joke that fourteen and forty are difficult emotional ages, so we're riding the feelings roller coaster together.
She's a bright, beautiful, creative, hilarious girl, and she drives me crazy and I love her to death all at the same time. But right now, she's struggling a bit. I can tell that she can tell something's off but she can't put her finger on it, so I stepped in on her behalf. I had this picture in my mind of her sort of free falling, arms flailing. And I felt as if God were telling me to be the one to hold her tight, to give her security and a safe place to land.
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