Trying: On Writing and Child Rearing

BS"D

I hear the rumble of a drill upstairs. I wonder what my neighbours are doing up there. I feel the hardness of the seat. The chair is not good for sitting long, but sit long I do in it. 

The air is cold around my legs, and I want to dress more warmly but dressing more warmly means that I have to wash my hands afterwards and then my hands will be cold, colder than they are already. 

I have a burning, cold burning like menthol on my face on the sides and the cheeks. I wonder if I'm allergic to something or if this an emotion. I know that I am afraid to write and do the projects I have set out for myself. I have a terror of being exposed but I think that this is what I was meant to do with my time right now. I very much want to start to teach writing but I'm afraid and sure that no one will want to take a class from me since I want to be paid and since I've never published a thing. I can only try.

I can only try.

I just thought again about the girl that wanted to know how do raise a girl like my daughter. 

You can't do anything about anything in the world except want it and fear G/d.

So I feared G/d, probably not enough, but enough.  Enough that what I wanted was not to disappoint Him by doing things with/to my daughter that she couldn't have a relationship with Him. I want my children, all of them, to be with G/d. To love Him and fear Him and to want Him, to want to walk with Him more than anything else that they could have in the world.

What can I say? I wanted it and G/d said "Yes, you can have these kinds of things, you can have these kinds of children."

Children don't belong to us.

They are given to us to work on ourselves and to guide them to enter a relationship with G/d. 

That's all.

This is cross posted at my other blog "The Flashlight".