My dad called to let me know that he had seen my first blog post. I guess he was feeling feisty because he was really giving me a hard time about it. He called to complain that I mention Mom in the blog (I would hardly say I mentioned her), but not him. He then proceeded to go through this long lecture about how he was never going to read my blog and why wasn't he important enough to be mentioned, etc. This was all in fun, of course (I think). You see, I'm ALWAYS giving both of my parents a hard time for treating me different than they treat my brother and sister...I play the “middle child” card as often as I can. I'm kidding, but it sure is FUN! I think dad was getting back at me. I jokingly told him that I was saving my second blog post all for him. But, once I sat down this morning to write, all I could think of was Dad.
I met my dad about 35 years ago (wow...he's old!), though I don't even remember it. I think I was a bit preoccupied learning to breathe and eat on my own. My first memories of my dad are facilitated by pictures that I've seen. Like the wrestling matches on the living room floor and being pulled in the yellow wagon. But the first memories that I really recall involve a tan truck, dad running and church (not in any specific order). I recall riding next to dad in his truck and LOVING it. There was nothing like climbing up in the truck next to dad and heading out. Such a small thing that meant a lot to me.
I remember dad jogging in the evenings. He ran marathons and other races. My memories are a little foggy, but I know he took me to a race once, just he and I. I also recall going with him while he ran the track at Sterling High School. I have wonderful memories of going with the family to the many marathons. Dad also coached YMCA track. I ran when I was very young. Yes, I'm aware that this is hard to believe. My dad even took me shopping for very nice running shoes! The memory that stands out the most was at a Saturday track meet. It was time for my race (once around the track...whatever that's called) and dad was very encouraging and giving me last minute pointers. I'm not sure how I came to realize this, but I discovered that I was the only girl in the race. Tears started to flow. I was really scared to run against those boys. I DID NOT want to do it. I'm foggy on the details, but dad got me out there and made me do it. The race began and I ran for my life! I crossed that finish line well before any of those stinky boys! That was one of the best moments in my childhood...thanks to my dad!
Dad always encouraged me. As far as I knew, he thought I could do anything. I recall knowing that dad had faith in me, and that he knew I could excel in sports, school and anything else. I wanted to go to college, because I wanted to show Dad that he was right...I could “do it”... could succeed. I know I'm jumping ahead, but college was not just for me, but also for dad. He didn't get to finish (army, kids, the real word), but he sure could have. He is smart, loves history and pushes through tough situations. The day I graduated (And you must know that I didn't actually believe it until I walked across the stage. Even then I hoped they wouldn't discover that they were making a mistake.) from Texas A &M University (whoop), I was so proud that dad was there. I will NEVER forget that HUGE hug from him...biggest hug in the history of hugs!
But what memory really makes me thankful for my dad?...Dad helped me find Christ. Not only was I raised in church, but I was taught about God at home. I always remember my dad serving the Lord. The entire time that I have known my dad, he has been obeying God's call to help those that are less fortunate (even when our family might have been considered less fortunate). My dad's ministry is to feed the hungry. I can not tell you how many times mom and dad took us along with them to deliver food to those who were hungry. They fed people and led them towards Christ. That had a profound impact on my life! My dad prayed with me when I accepted Christ, and I had been confident going to him and letting him know that I was ready. God looked down on him that day and said “Well done my child.”...I'm sure of it.
I could go on and on and on, telling you about my dad. There are so many things to tell, like him coming to all of my school events, sporting events, defending me when needed, letting me fall when needed, driving me to school, spanking me (oh yes...I said it!) and the biggest of all...not pulling me out of A&M when the first semester didn't go so well...in other words, giving me second chances.
The point is...Today is Thankful Thursday, and I choose YOU dad for my first Thankful Thursday post! Now I have to listen to mom complain that my post wasn't about her...I just can't win!!
Love you Daddy. (Now wipe those eyes and go get some Blue Bell!)
1 comment:
Wonderful :)))))
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