Discernment and Music: Butterfly Kisses

Like most other people, when I started out on this journey I thought "celibacy" and "no sex" were synonymous. Even to this day, I'm asked "Why would you want to give up sex? I don't know if I could handle that."

I've learned that living a celibate life means much more than not getting any action.

It's been said that a child never really knows how much a parent loves until they have children of their own. If this is true, I will never know the love my mother had, and how it affected both our lives. I'll never know what it's like to play catch with my son, or watch my daughter as she tries to catch a frog. Parenting is our chance to make up for the mistakes we've made and teach those things to the next generation. Celibacy means I will never experience that kind of love.

At heart, I'll admit I'm not fond of kids. They're greedy, fickle, liars, unreasonable, and they don't pay attention: kind of like me. I grew up an only child, so I wasn't as exposed to kids as other families. Most times I played by myself, letting my imagination be my best friend rather than anyone else. As I grew, I never developed that "I love kids!" attitude that most people have. I never babysat, I never mentored, and I'm bad at discipline.

I had one chance to be a father...and I failed.

When my ex-girlfriend and I were together, she had a 15 year old daughter. I identified with her a lot. We never met our birth-fathers, we'd never had a steady father-figure in our lives, and both of us were seeking that father-daughter love that we'd seen in other families.


I can still hear her call me "daddy," and it rips my heart out to think about it.

Unfortunately because of how we lived, it was all doomed to fail. But she didn't know that. She shouldn't have to be a part of the break. What trauma must it be for a child to finally meet someone who wants to be a father, but it eventually fails? Perhaps this is the deep, dark area of my heart that I won't let go. A guilt I refuse to offer up to God. Perhaps my failing of one child is a demonstration of what's to come.

Even now, I remember that time with joy and happiness. I remembered the words: "After all that I've done wrong, I must've done something right." This week's song sings of that joy and happiness: Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlisle.

The song serves as a reminder of what I've already given up, and what I will never have. Until this point, I'd only thought about the conflict with my ex. My heart aches for the daughter. I feel like part of me is missing now that she's gone. I feel a sense of emptiness for a child I didn't father, but openly called "my daughter," not "step-daughter."

Whether the song is a way to remind me of good things or a condemnation of my attempt to be a father-figure, I'm not sure. Either way, it's something I must deal with while I continue walking this life.


There's two things I know for sure
She was sent here from Heaven
And she's daddy's little girl
As I drop to my knees by her bead
She talks to Jesus and I close my eyes
And I thank God for all of the joy in my life
But most of all...

For butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
Walk beside the pony, daddy, its my first ride
I know the cake looks funny, daddy, but I sure tried
With all that I've done, i must have done something right
To deserve a hug every morning, and butterfly kisses at night

Sweet 16 today
She's looking like her mama a little more everyday
One part woman, the other part girl
To perfume and makeup from ribbons and curls
Trying her wings out in a great big world
But I remember

Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
You know how much I love you, daddy, but if you don't mind
I'm only gonna kiss you on the cheek this time
With all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning, and butterfly kisses at night

All the precious time
Like the wind the years go by
Precious butterfly
Spread your wings and fly

She'll change her name today
She'll make a promise and I'll give her away
Standing in the bride-room just staring at her
She asks me what I'm thinking and I say I'm not sure
I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl
She leaned over

Gave me butterfly kisses, with her mama there
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
Walk me down the aisle, daddy, it's just about time
Does my wedding gown look pretty, daddy?
Daddy, don't don't cry.
Oh, with all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning and butterfly kisses
I couldn't ask God for more, this is what love is
I know I got to let her go, but I'll always remember
Every hug in the morning
And butterfly kisses


(I finally got the tears under control. God bless to all of you parents out there.)

Spread The Love, Share Our Article

Related Posts

1 Response to Discernment and Music: Butterfly Kisses

August 6, 2007 at 10:32 AM

"What trauma must it be for a child to finally meet someone who wants to be a father, but it eventually fails? "

Not any more difficult for her than for the man who finally met someone who want to be a daughter, but it eventually fails. I know - although for me it was twin boys. I love them like they are my children. Have ever sice I first met them - and always will.

I heard someone say a father's heart is the same as a Father's heart.

God bless.

P.S. I know those tears, too. "He's My Son" does it to me. Cry them when they come... the tears DO become sweet. I promise.