To My Children: What I Should’ve Said at the Start

Funny thing—I never really explained what this blog was about when I began. I just started writing.

But looking back, it’s been clear all along: this has always been a letter to you. Not one long speech, but a series of notes, thoughts, and stories—written quietly, but always with you in mind.

Every post, every line, has been my way of saying something fathers don’t always put into words: I love you more than you know. And even more than that—I love the God who made that kind of love possible.

These musings aren’t just mine. They're yours, too.

So here’s what I should’ve said on day one:
This is for you, my children.

I’m not writing perfect essays here. I’m leaving breadcrumbs—snapshots of life, lessons I’m learning, prayers I’m still praying. Under it all, there's one steady message: you are loved—deeply, fiercely, always.

And that love has a source.

My love for the One God who loves you better than I can even imagine. It’s His love that teaches me how to love you, however poorly I learn. His well doesn’t run dry.

So when you read something here know what I’m really saying:
I’m thankful for you.
I’m still learning to love well.
And I’m writing so you’ll always remember.

And in case you ever go searching—wondering if any of this was meant for you—I’ll make it plain: I’m adding your names, so you’ll find this note when you need it most.

- Aletheia Sharbel Liu
- Ambrose Keith Macbeth
- Airlie Grace
- Petra Magdalena
- Brycen John
- Virgil Chrysostom Elijah
- Chiara Augustine Joy

I love you.
And God loves you even more.

That’s the heart of it. Always has been.

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