Held

This week we had an election which helps me remember that this week is also my dad's birthday because you see poor dad often had to share his birthday party with an election party. Still I quite forgot that today was the big day, because I'm sorry dad, but I've never good with remembering dates.

I don't remember the first time my dad held me. It was in a hospital room in the wee hours of the morning and dad had just watched his last child come into the world.

I remember the many other times dad held me though.

He held me on his lap. Probably to make his silly little girl sit still, but I felt safe and loved perched on dad's knee. When I was too big to sit on dad's lap I would lean on his shoulder, because it felt safe and good.

When I was a teenager and in the chaos of emotional storms dad would hug me and told me he loved me.

And then one day dad helped me carry my earthly belongings into a empty dorm room. Dad hugged me good bye and then I was alone in an big parking lot knowing that dad left me there because he loved me.

Three very long and very short years later I was hugging  a lot of people (some I didn't even know!) as I stood in the receiving line at my graduation. And then dad was there. Holding me tight and everything around us seemed to stop.

When dad held me his touch said more then words ever could. I knew I was loved. I knew that I would always be daddy's girl. I knew that there was no need to perform for love...it was given to me freely. Dad was showing me the love of Christ. No matter what I did my father would always love me, because he saw no the faults in me, but instead his little girl.

My father gave me a gift that is more valuable to me then words or riches. His love.

Happy Birthday Dad. And yes your card is coming, but well maybe you can just read this while you wait for it.