The irony is—I hate fish. Don’t like to eat them. Don’t like to touch them. If I’m really honest, even the tiniest ones terrify me. On a very courageous vacation day years ago, Jon and I went snorkeling in the Caribbean. I love to look at the beautiful coral. I even like to look at the fish from afar. But then one slimy, yellow critter started tailing me. I went right. He went right. I went left. He went left. Creepy! Jon thought it was hilarious. I almost had a heart attack.
But even though I despise anything fishy, it’s a delight to watch my two two-year-olds as they develop their unique interests. I’m amazed at how God plants these passions in our hearts from the time we are born.
As she gets older, I’ll cheer for Kiki as she pursues her love for anything that swims because even though I hate fish, I love my little girl. And I have a feeling, I’ll be spending a lot of time learning to love fish as well in the days/years to come.