Happy Father's Day

I have always been so thankful for my Daddy.  I had the most normal of childhoods, which by today's standards wasn't really normal.  I never went to bed crying because my Daddy didn't love me, beat me, wasn't around, drank, lied, or any of the other horrible, horrible things daddies can do to their daughters.  No, my childhood was just the opposite; I lived day to day solidly aware of how deeply my father cared for me, and what that meant in my daily life.  It meant that he got up and went to work and, dog tired, he came home.  He prayed for me.  He complimented me, even when it was kind of a stretch (think 3rd grade, glasses, buck teeth, and unkempt hair).  He gives me a small glimpse of my heavenly Father's love for me and it blows me away--if my earthly father loves me this much then how much more does God love me?

Through the teenage and college years I tested that love, and his was unwavering.  We fought.  I lied to him and let him down.  Over and over again.  My father never once walked away from me.  I disappointed him in ways I don't care to admit, and still he loved me.  Patiently he waited and when I came to ask his forgiveness, he was there with open arms.

There were times when the money was tight, the times were tense, yet there was always time and desire to play one more round of Scrabble.  The nights were countless when I'd be asleep in bed, only to wake to the sound of my Daddy playing his praise to Jesus on the piano.  I could go on and on.

And then I had kids.

I don't have a picture of Daddy holding Aubrey for the first time (digital one that is--I have one in A's room, but the boy is asleep and I'm not going in there!!) but let me assure you, it was a sight I'll never forget:  my precious Daddy holding my brand new little boy, tiny in his big hands, with tears running down his cheeks.  He greeted each of my children the same.

He continues to love them fiercely, spending as much time as the distance will allow.  Oftentimes we see him on his way through Mississippi and we covet each second he gives us.  My daddy plays with each of my kids, takes us to dinner, and reminds me every time that I am extraordinarily blessed. 

That's just MY daddy.

Then there's my kids' daddy.

When I married my husband I knew he was a fantastic man, but I had no idea.  Our firstborn came and I only began to see.  Almost 7 years later I know him to be a patient teacher, a fair disciplinarian, a loving kisser of hurts, and above all, present.  His answer to the frequent request, 'Will you play with me?' is always yes.  He is a builder of tree forts, fishing line untangler, bike without training wheels running alongsider, swim buddy, and an outstanding tea party guest.  He makes our days fun.  I loved him when we married but I love him so much more for the father he is.  I know I got a catch.

I could not sign off without mentioning my father in law.  I can see the amount of time he spent with my Bobby in the amount of time my Bobby spends with our kids.  He comes to baseball games, school programs, birthday parties, and just because he hasn't seen his kids in a while.  He loves my children and boy do they love him.  He is the instigator of many a pocket knife and trips to the drug store for a sucker.  He can hardly say no to them.  In fact, I don't think he does. 

Happy Father's Day to you all!

PS, I have, like, 1500 pictures of my dad, hubs, and FIL to put on this post and Blogger won't cooperate.  Seriously!!!!????