Co-Lab Entry #2?

Dad,
I stand before you as a smiling child. I'm holding a kite-string in my left hand; my kite is bobbing easily above and behind me.

This image agitates you and I get it, Dad. We both know the kite is my Faith in God. You decide that my smile is a dare; that I'm mocking you in some way. Get over it, Dad. I really am just a happy kid flying her kite of Faith. I'm smiling because, at that particular moment, the kite-flying is easy....

Dad,
I stand before you as a smiling child and proficiency has it's price.

Too many times I've foolishly galloped, faster than this body ought to, with the faintest chance of creating enough breeze to get that kite aloft. And there was a moment when I let my Faith get so far away from me that, fearful and naive, I was unsure if gravity, my weight, my force would be enough to keep the connection. Without me there was no kite; with no kite there was no me. Control is an illusion; at best, it's a dance.

Dad,
I stand before you as a smiling child. I walk out each morning, kite in hand, cheerfully checking the gist of the day's weather. I always expect my Faith will be both challenged and rewarded. I've learned that if I can grin when I run with that kite and laugh at my follies, kite-flying is fun more often than not. Those days when the sky and wind are angrily churning, there's comfort in knowing to reel in my kite, bring it safely indoors, hang it on my bedroom wall. Considering the wear-and-tear my kite has seen these 48 years, I think my Faith is holding up pretty well.

Dad,
I stand before you as a smiling child. I'm holding a kite-string in my left hand and my right hand is empty...