When I look in the mirror, I still see the little girl trying to be perfect to earn my father's love and affection.   I was never certain if he was going to hug me or smack me. Smile at me, ignore me, or punish me for reasons that I didn't understand, could never understand.  One day looking him in the eyes was a sure way to get accused of "being smart" . The next day, not meeting his eyes was a sign of disrespect.  I think I only remember one time that he bought me something himself, I was almost grown, 17 maybe? Christmas and birthday presents were always from Mom.  He bought me a bracelet.  I still have it.  I couldn't believe that he'd gotten it for me. It wasn't even my birthday or anything. .  Pastor Liz always says that "hurt people, hurt people." . I know that is true.  I'm trying so desperately to not pass on the pain patterns, the wounds  that I've received, on to my kids. I want to be a cycle breaker.  Learning to trust in God as father, that he loves me, wants me, has only my best interest at heart, all of these things are daily, sometimes hourly struggles. But I want to get there. I have to get there. Because it's not about me.  It's about teaching my dear little ones that if everyone else in their lives fail them and let them down, God will always be the Rock they can build their foundation on. Build a life on. He is worth living, and worth dying for.