It was almost 11:00pm and I heard soft crying coming from upstairs. I paused my TV show and asked Malia what was wrong.
"I'm scared of the D-word," was her quiet response.
After giving her permission to come downstairs to talk to me on the couch, I discovered that the D-word she was referring to was dying.
Ah...dying. Not my strongest topic as I struggle with this same fear. But we spent a few minutes talking about her fear and the fact that when we die - as believers in Christ - we get to go to heaven, and before too long she felt like she was able to go back to bed.
As I took her back upstairs and tucked her back into bed, giving her a hug and a kiss, she said to me: "I'm so glad that I have you to talk to."
Yes, you have me to talk to sweet girl. Anytime. And about anything.