“I will be a Father to you, and you shall be My sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” ~2 Cor. 6:18
I have two recollections of my biological father.
The first, I was about five years old, sitting in his car. The second, I was eighteen, a freshman in college. I’d taken a Greyhound bus through several states to visit my twin and “meet” my father. It was such a strange and surreal experience that I somehow forgot to ask him all the things I wanted to know. And then, just like that, the meeting was over and I never spoke to him again.
That night in a dorm bathroom I stared at myself in the mirror. I saw me in his face. I saw him in my face. It was quite a transforming experience, like finding a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.
Those two moments are all I have of my natural father, but I have a lifetime of beautiful memories shared with my Dad.
The man I love to call Daddy has been supporter, protector, provider, hero, teacher, friend – everything a daughter needs her father to be. He didn’t have to, but he adopted my sister and I, made us a family, and gave us his name. Never for a moment have we felt or been anything less than wholly his. And I’m so proud to be his.
He has loved God and my mother with all his heart. He has served all of my life — his family, his country as an airman and a soldier, his God as a founding pastor of an amazing church. He has a faith in God so strong – He simply believes – and it’s radical.
He bought me a diamond ring when I was a little girl and told me I was even more precious. Years later he walked me down the aisle and just before he gave me away, he whispered a secret that only we share . Still years later he held up my baby girls and dedicated them to the Lord.
I am so grateful that God the Father has blessed me to know the great love of a father.
Thank you, Daddy.