Honoring my first love, My Daddy!

My Dad, Mom, little sister, little brother and me.

I haven't posted in a very long time. My mind has been a big huge blank since my dad went home to be with the Lord in January, so I have not really attempted to write anything. Tonight I am ready to share what my dad meant to me. I think it would be a great way to honor him and to get me back on track.

They say that most of the time children view God in light of their earthly Father. I have to say that in my experience that is quite true. My dad was the most fun loving, kind, caring generous man I know. There were three of us kids and he loved us in our love language before the Christian world had "The 5 Love Languages". For me that meant small gifts and notes left spontaneously. My dad worked shift work and it was nothing for me to either wake up or go to bed with a little note from him or a picture or story, he was never too busy for us. We were never shooed away, he always made time for us. I remember when I was trying to decide on whether or not I should go to Bible College, my dad was working on our car and he worked silently and let me pour out my heart. When I was through he gave me his advice, but he had listened to every bit of reasoning I had, because he knew it was important to me. When I was in elementary school I was going through a rough time and felt like I had no friends and this was so painful to me. One day after school I came home and while I was doing my homework my dad brought me a present. It was a story he had written and illustrated just for me, to show me how special and important I was to God. I will never forget that.

I was not the easiest child to raise. I was born with a strong sense of the way I thought the world should run and I vehemently pitched fits to make it so, from a very small age. My poor parents....Mama did all she could to reign in my strong willed temper and still love me but I of course fought her tooth and nail. Daddy allowed me a little more freedom, later when I was grown and we were adopting and struggling to keep our sanity Daddy stopped by for lunch and told me that he always knew my strong willed nature would come in handy, God had prepared me for this. He understood me as no one else could.

Now that my daddy is at home in heaven I don't know how to really feel. He was the person I would go to (before Donald) when the world was turned upside down and didn't make sense and at the time I need His strength the most he is not here. Then God reminds me that He is my Father and He is always with me and I lean on Him.  Some days there is a gaping whole in my heart when I think of the lifetime stretching before me without my daddy and thankfully there are other days that make it seem possible that he could just pop over for lunch as he so often did, these days are strangely comforting because it brings to mind all the visits we shared through the years. I also remind myself when there is pain this isn't a bad thing it just means he was a part of my life, that he meant some thing to us and that he had a very big place in our lives. I rejoice because I know that we will see each other again and I have wonderful memories of our days together.