Father's Day Tears....

My father was a great man. He loved the Lord with all of his heart, soul and mind, and he was deeply committed to his family. He was a hard worker and a loyal friend. He was a man of his word. I have so many precious memories of him embedded into the very threads of my life. He was my hero. I loved it when he would call me his sugar bear, and tell me that my dresses were pretty. Or the time when he surprised me with a Cabbage Patch Doll when there were none to be found on store shelves. He filled every family event and holiday with laughter. He gave the loudest applause at my dance recitals. He cried when my dog was hit by a car. He built the best campfires.
All of these things are wonderful to think about and reflect on, they are irreplaceable memories. However, there are two memories of my father that are more precious to me than any other. The first is when I was in sin and he took me in his arms and loved me. As I sobbed and confessed he loved me. I had broken his heart and he loved me. The second happened the day he died. It was a difficult day for me. I was depressed, and very wrapped up in myself. Nothing in my life seemed to be going well. My mother (my other hero) was taking me off for the day, and the last thing that my father said to her that morning was "let's pray for Danielle". The last thing my parents did together was pray for me!
There is no way I could ever begin to describe what that meant to me then and what it still means to me now, four years later. When we left that day we had no way of knowing that we would not be seeing my father again, he had no way of knowing he would not be seeing us. But the thing that was always in the forefront of his mind was what was best for his family.
I miss my daddy so much. I miss the smell of him, I miss his smile, I even miss his not so great harmonica playing. I wish I could tell him how much I love him and how much I appreciate his love for me.
My father was a great man. He showed me Christ.