Dads are always a girl's first hero. Some of my earliest memories of my dad are from when he got a job coaching football and teaching at Portland Christian High School. I loved nothing more than to tag along at my daddy's side walking the hallways with the big high schoolers around. Apparently, I even liked to hang out in the locker room after football practice before I was old enough to know that it was a stinky, nasty place where people go to get athlete's foot. I loved that MY DAD had authority. People listened to him, and it made me feel important to be next to him.
When I was younger, I would ask my dad silly questions just because I knew he was smart and I loved to hear him explain things to me. I always knew a good explanation was coming when he'd clear his throat and say "well,..." and then he'd finish his thought with "at any rate..." This may sound like a 1st grade paper, but my dad is so smart, I don't even know what he does sometimes. I called him the other day and asked what he was doing and all I could tell you, based on his reply, was that it was something in a lab with stuff. How's that for scientific?
Girls need their daddies to be tough too. Dads are our source of protection, and we always think they are the strongest people we know. My dad got a fishing lure stuck in his hand once, and I will never forget watching him trying to pull it out with pliers. I almost threw up, but it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. I will also never forget the first time I really saw my dad cry. It wasn't until I was 18 and he was dropping me off in Minnesota to start college. It shook me to the core, but I knew in that moment how much he really loved me.
Even though my dad was smart, tough, played sports with me and all the other things a good dad should, it wasn't any one of those traits that made him such an exceptional dad. It was all of them, combined with the fact that he gave me one of the best gifts a dad can give: a foundation in Truth. My dad took our family to church every Sunday no matter what was going on. I always knew I could ask him any question I had about God, and he would have an answer. I certainly had my moments when I questioned what I was taught; I rebelled and caused myself a lot of pain. But it was in those moments, when my dad had the courage to speak up - even if I didn't want to hear it at the time - that I began to see what a wise man my dad is. As children, we never truly appreciate our parents. It isn't until we have our own kids sometimes that we realize how much parents give, how desperately they want the best for us, how they want us to make good choices, and grow up to be healthy, responsible adults. I know my dad wanted those things for me and still does.
As an adult, one of my favorite things to do is just sit and talk to my dad about anything - politics, Genesis, current events, Duck Dynasty, or even people at Louisiana Walmarts. He has a fantastic sense of humor and some great dance moves. (You'll never see the dance moves - they only occur at home on rare occasions, but they are pretty sweet.) I love you dad! I'm so thankful for you, and I wish you weren't so far away!
