Happy Father’s Day!! Praying your day is FILLED with blessings upon blessings. That although you are normally the GIVER, that today you’ll be the one given to.
As any daughter does, I watched you growing up. I watched how you treated Mom. I watched how you treated others. The ways you volunteered your time. The ways you gave financially. The ways you handled stress and difficult circumstances. The way you handled us, as kids.
And now that I’m older I still watch. I see how you extend a hand of forgiveness to the one that hurt me most. I see how you give and support and love my kids… and myself. I see you give of your time to others. To the church. To your friends. To your family. I see you love Mom in ways that Christ loves the church.
We all make mistakes along the way, but I’ve watched you ask for forgiveness and move on. I’ve watched you cry. I’ve watched you laugh. I’ve watched you reading your bible. I’ve heard some of your prayers. I’ve listened to what you believe and why you believe it.
And now, more than ever, I love you! I love you for ALL OF IT! All of the living you’ve done in front of me so that I can know what it means to live Christ-like. It’s not perfect but it’s gentle, strong, kind, loving, patient, self-controlled, joyful, peaceful, and faithful. The fruits of the Spirit are so evident in your life. No one who meets you would not know that you were a Christian. And more than anything else, I love you for that.
Thank you for being a Godly parent and role-model. For being my hero when I needed one in the flesh.
I love you so very much!!!
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. (OK, I have to edit, I just do.) 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. Then visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.
Please give me your best five minutes on:
Photo courtesy of Tomasz Tuszko on Flickr
It was a Sunday and I, of course, was at church. There because my parents drove me there as they did every Sunday. And Wednesday. And any other time the doors were open.
Sitting in the back the tears came. I was on the right looking up at the choir. Sitting there as a teenager in high school feeling as though my world was ending. I’d kept it together for weeks but the stress wore me down and all I could do was cry. And then I caught his eye.
Before I knew it he was out of the choir and I was ushered into the hallway. That part happened so quickly. My memory fails me at that part – of how I actually made it out of the sanctuary. The arms that wrapped around me that morning let me know that I was not alone. That he could be trusted with my secret. He had come down from the choir in the middle of a service. For those of you not raised in a Baptist Church a LONG time ago you probably won’t get the weight of that moment. I knew it. He knew it. But he did that for me anyway. His voice would be missed and questions would be asked as he approached a sobbing teenager.
My thoughts spilled out as I recalled all that was weighing on my heart. He listened. And hugged. And rescued me from something I couldn’t do myself.
He’s been doing that for years and for that he’s my hero. Just when life seems to want to swallow me up… in comes the one God entrusted me to… my dad.
Oh how I remember that morning in a baptist church in Brazoria, TX.