Happy Father's Day, Dad.

It's been said to me on more than one occasion that I look like my dad. His eyes disappear when he smiles and so do mine. When he laughs hard, he tends to suck in air and makes a sound that makes you think of a donkey. And, though not many know it, I do that too. He is a planner. So am I. He is always early. Guilty of that too. More than all of the personality quirks that make dad, Dad. He has taught me about life and spirituality that no other ever has.

When I was a young teenager my dad and I did not always get along. He was trying to protect me from "the world" and I was trying to experience "the world". We did not see eye to eye on the subject. The lesson I learned from those years of trial and error, mostly error, was that my dad would love me through it. He wasn't always proud of my choices, but what parents is all the time, but his love never wavered. I remember hearing my dad praying in the early mornings hours. He wouldn't know it, but I'd stand in the hallway at times and listen to his prayers. He prayed for me. My dad likes me. Dad used to say as we would be smashed tog ether in the backseat of a Pontiac Bonneville, "Even if ya'll weren't my family, I'd still want to hang out with you." As much as I'd laugh at this silly thought of him hanging out with me if I wasn't his daughter, it always stayed with me. My dad liked me for me. He never expected me to be more or less than who I was. He expected greatness out of me, but nothing that wasn't already put there by God.

Dad taught me to dream. Dream big, dream freely, and dream often. I love this about my Dad. I still remember to this day when he called a "family meeting" to tell us all that him and Mom were applying to be missionaries. My heart was on cloud 9. Missions has been my heart's cry since I was 12 and to this day, bleeds for people. I get this from my Dad. There were many nights when my dad would get up in the middle of the night due to a phone call concerning someone in need. He saw people as people and nothing less. My Dad is a giver. Because of this, I still can't sit through a missionaries sermon without wanting to empty my bank account.

My dad is a spiritual Champion in my life. He lived before me a life of faithful prayer and communication with God. Dad was never all that good at praying with us, but that's okay. Because when he would pray, it could move mountains. I'd take quality over quantity any day.

My Dad loves my Mom. His eyes light up like a little boy on Christmas morning when he knows he has gotten her something she is going to love. A couple Christmas' ago he got her a blue topaz necklace. It was a gift to me just to watch and hear his excitement over it. On Christmas morning it was almost as entertaining to watch him watch her open the special gift. He loves my Mom and that is a gift that a girl will never want to return.

My Dad is a good Papa. When I had Grace, my Dad stood outside the room waiting to hear the cries of his first grandchild. I think he may have cried that day. When I was on bed rest with Hope, my dad and I spent a lot of time together. I'd lay on the couch or sit in the opposite recliner with him and we'd watch old movies. During my 9 months of being pregnant I think we watched "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?" at least 3 times. Dad took care of me since my husband was working long hours. He gave me security during that time when I felt I had none.

Dad isn't the kind of guy that you just call up and talk to for hours on end. He doesn't speak a lot of words but there are times when he'll say something to me and I know to listen because I know it will be worth my attention. Dad has wisdom.

So, Dad, thank you for loving me. Thank you for liking me. I'm so glad that God chose me to be you daughter. It's a pleasure. Happy Father's Day.