When I was a little girl
my daddy was tall and strong,
even stronger than my three big brothers.
Sometimes he growled like a bear,
then tickled me with his scratchy whiskers.
He always kept chocolate covered peanuts
in his file cabinet... it was our secret stash.
When I climbed up onto his lap for a Bible story,
he let me pull the pencils out of his shirt pocket
so they wouldn't poke me when we snuggled.
When I was a young girl
my daddy was smart and brave.
He knew about so many things
and could calculate complicated math in his head
faster than anyone else.
One time, an angry gas station owner
mistook my dad for a thief
and came after him with a gun.
I watched in amazement
as my dad threw the truck keys to my mom,
then snatched the gun from the man's hand
and twisted the man's arm behind his back.
It all had happened as fast as lightning.
My daddy used these and other experiences
as teaching tools
helping me to learn from God's Word.
When I was a girl in love,
my daddy was patient and understanding.
He spoke to my boyfriend
as a man and as a friend
about business ideas,
about politics,
about God's Word.
When we considered marriage,
my dad soothed my mother's worries
and assured us that she would be fine.
When I was a married woman,
my daddy was wise and encouraging.
He listened well, asked thoughtful questions,
and offered sound advice in a gentle manner.
His vast knowledge of the Bible
was a valuable source of insight
and good judgment.
The years have come and gone one by one
offering kindness throughout each changing season.
My daddy was tall and strong,
my daddy was smart and brave,
my daddy was patient and understanding,
my daddy was wise and encouraging...
...and now that I must be these things for him,
I feel small and unsure,
as if I have become a little girl again.
Perhaps it is an illusion
to think that I have ever really stopped
being a little girl...
"Because you are sons,
God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts,
the Spirit who calls out,
'Abba, Father!'"
~Galatians 4:6
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