Thank You, Dad.

As I laid in bed last night, my head on the pillow and my body curled on it's side, I couldn't stop coughing. All I wanted was to sleep and allow the rest to heal my throat but the sinus drainage just would not ease up.

As I laid there, I tried to figure out a way to get the coughing to stop so that I could fall asleep. And as I laid there thinking, my mind was transported to many years ago.

In my mind's eye, I saw a nine-year-old strawberry blond girl, lying on her Ikea bunk-bed with the built-in desk underneath. I saw a six-year-old girl surrounded by stuffed animals and clasping a floppy golden dog and a stiff blue bear and lying on an identical Ikea desk/bunk bed. The whole top perimeter of the room was bordered with kitty ballerinas in shades of pink and grey. The room was lit up by the glow of a fishtank and the only sound to be heard was the rhythmic breathing of the six-year-old and the incessant coughing of the nine-year-old: me.

I'm sure there were many nights growing up when I couldn't stop coughing. But I specifically remember this one. I remember my dad coming in (he always took the late night shifts when we needed something as kids) and propping me up with a bunch of pillows. He said that I would sleep better propped up because it would help my sinuses drain and help me not to cough.

Then he gave me Saltine crackers. I don't remember the exact wording of the reason he gave as to why Saltines work but I remember it being something like, "the crackers soak up the phlegm." He stayed with me while I ate a few and the coughing subsided. After I was settled, he left me with a half-full bag of saltines, "in case you start coughing in the middle of the night."


Then he left me with another goodnight prayer and kiss on top of my head.


So last night, after remembing that night from many years ago, I rolled out of bed. I went to my kitchen and grabbed the box of whole wheat crackers - the closest thing I had that resembled Saltines. Then I grabbed a cushion off the back of my couch and headed back to bed. I propped myself up the way my dad did and I munched a few of the crackers to stop the coughing - and then I munched a couple more because they tasted good.


Within five minutes, I was asleep.


And now,

I want to say thank you.


Thank you, Dad.

Thank you, Dad, for being such a loving, hands-on dad. Thank you for your gentle touch with all your daughters and for being so understanding when we were sick. Thank you for still being that way now. Thank you for your example; it has taught me a lot - especially when it comes to falling asleep with a sinus cough! ;-) Plus so much more.

I love you.

Daddy's Girl

My husband and I were talking with a leader at our church today (yesterday, as you read this) after service and following at the edge of the leader’s heels was an adorable three-year-old daughter.

The whole time we were talking with him, I kept observing his daughter - all her cute antics, the way she would express her desires, and the fascination she had with the ants on the sidewalk. But what I observed the most was the way she trusted her daddy.

I first started paying more attention to her communication with her dad when I heard her call out for help on a cement stair step. “My daddy! My daddy!” she yelled. “That is so cute,” I thought.

My daddy, she said. Her daddy. She knew that HER daddy would come. That HER daddy would help her. That HER daddy would be there for her. She trusted HER daddy.

This little girl watched her daddy. She looked to see where he was when she would walk more than a few feet away. Can I still see my daddy? She called his name to get him to just give her a smile. Does my daddy notice me? She kept looking up at her daddy while he was praying and then kept closing her eyes again to do it like him. (Yes, I was peeking.)

And then, as she got tired, right there on the ant-trodden, dusty cement, she laid down at her daddy’s feet and used his tennis-shoe-covered-feet as a pillow.

I want to be like this little girl with my Abba Father, my Heavenly Daddy.

I want to call Him, My Daddy. I want to know that MY Daddy will come to me, and help me, and be there for me. I want to trust my Abba - MY Daddy.

I want to watch my daddy. I want to always make sure He can see me, I want to call on Him name often and know that He hears me, and I want to do what my Daddy does.

And when I’m tired and weary, I just want to curl up and lay at my Daddy’s feet, despite whatever is going on around me, and know that I am safe - because Abba Father is MY daddy.

Are you glad for a Heavenly Daddy in which you can place all your trust?