Your dad is many things. He is a co-creator with your mom and God that enabled you to be born. He contributed to your exciting, mysterious, and full-of-possibilities new life. He gave you his last name as an anchor of belonging without you having to prove anything to anyone. You matter to him just for who you. Your arrival stamped his heart with a seal of love.
Your dad labored daily to provide a safe environment for you to grow up in. He does not command respect, but has earned it due to his self-less expression or love and care towards you. From the time you were brought home from the hospital, he has prayed, hugged, and held onto you, fed and clothed you, and kept you warm and clean.
Regardless if your dad was tall or short, he is a giant to his little one. He towers over his toddler, yet is not distant, remote, or far away. He loves to get down on the floor with you, stooping down on all fours even, to engage you at your eye level for fun and horseplay. He enjoys picking you up and moving you through the air like a mini-airplane. My guess is you never worried about being dropped because your dad had you in his grasp. Your ensuing laughter confirmed you were safe and enjoying the experience.
A dad’s shoulders are strong and broad, because he bears the weight and responsibility to be a wife lover, care giver, and shelter provider. But many dads are also known to use those shoulders to hoist their kids up for piggy back rides, and to get a better view of birds, balloons, trees with hanging fruit, animals at the zoo, or passing parades.
A dad’s hands are large, firm, tender, offering care and love in one instant, and appropriate discipline in another. How often they tease and tickle and draw the laughter out of his child, too. Do you remember the first steps you took and whose hands were there to catch you, offer support, and give you one of your first “attaboy” or “attagirl” affirmations?
A dad’s voice is one of authority and discipline, tenderness and concern. He is one to warn you to stop when approaching danger (like a snake you don’t see in the backyard grass), and comfort and steadiness in times of fear, darkness, uncertainty, and especially in the midst of storms.
Remember your dad’s hands holding you as a youngster? Remember his hands on the steering wheel of the family car on vacation trips? Remember his hands helping to steady you as you learned to ride a bike (even with training wheels the first time)? Remember his hands on your shoulder as he and mom congratulated you for a report card, a chore done well, and finishing high school? Remember how he encouraged your heart when you did not believe in yourself?
What are some things you like and admire about your dad? Have you told him lately? If not, how soon can you connect with your dad and do so?
What are some things about your dad that contribute to making your relationship with him a bit rocky today? What can you do to make things better? Have you prayed about it?
Read Matthew 5:48…Jesus says our heavenly Father is perfect. Don’t make the mistake of comparing your dad to God as a father. It takes someone special to be a dad. Live communally. Love your dad however he did so far as a dad to you. Love God too, the best Daddy of all of us.
Love is a verb,
©2017 by Mike Olejarz