Dad

My youngest child is not quite 18 months. She can walk and she can climb. (Can she ever climb!) She is not quite coherent in talking, but she can give indication noises and can utter some words.

One of those words is ‘Dad’. I have two other daughters who are able to say that word and more, but it is still something to hear the youngest utter the word. She doesn’t just say it, she follows her sisters in making the word sound like a plea. On my more vulnerable moments it can be heartbreaking.

It is my Dad’s birthday today. When I consider the way my daughters call me Dad, on a day like this, I still shake my head in wonder as it does not seem that long ago when I was pleading the same way to my Mum’s husband. I have written about my Dad before, but every yeat there appears to be more to say in expressing how grateful to God I am for him.

I’ve been reading a book recently where one of the characters never sees her Dad and is looking for a father-figure in most of the male relationships she embarks on. I can appreciate how some children have their Dad in the house physically but that’s about it. My Dad is not perfect, but there is no doubt in my mind that he was not an absentee father. His presence and impact in my life continues to heavily influence who I am and the standards of manhood that means most to me.

I thank God for sparing his life to hit another year and celebrate a rich life of faithfulness and diligence. My Dad enjoys his life and knows what it is to be content. I pray that this will continue to be the case until the he breathes his final breath.

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

dmcd