Daddy love

I wrote an article earlier this month that talked about how I can’t stand men-bashing commercials. You can read that here if you missed it.

Well, obviously, Dove reads my blog. Because they have made a beautiful Daddy commercial that is going to air during the super bowl.

Oh, the crying.

My husband is a wonderful father….for many reasons, really. But, the main one (IMHO) is that he has always been the one to get up with our children in the middle of the night. The only exception to that is when they were babies and needed to be nursed….but even then, he would get them out of the crib and bring them to me and then put them back in their crib when they were done. Yes, he is my superhero, forever and ever. Amen.

Our daughter, who is now 5 years old, wakes up during the night about once a week or so. The first thing she does is call for her Daddy. She wants her Daddy to come and refill her water because she is thirsty. She wants her Daddy to turn back on her star light that went off in the middle of the night. She wants her Daddy to tell her that the dream she just had about vampires and bats is not real. Her Daddy comes, every time, without fail. He is there with patience and love, rubbing her back until she falls back to sleep. What a beautiful demonstration of unconditional love. She doesn’t know it, but in these middle of the night episodes, she is learning that her Daddy is there for her, no matter what.

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   Daddy and his crazy-haired little girly.

I sometimes forget that I still have a need for that unconditional love. I need to know my Dad is there for me and that he supports me. Yeah, I’m 35. Yeah, I have my own family. But, sometimes, I just need to hear of my Daddy’s love for me.

I’m in a scary transitional part of life right now. I left a comfortable part-time worship director job to step out in faith and tryout for full-time worship director position. Part of the tryout process was for me to guest-lead worship at our new church with a team of new people on a Sunday morning. 2 services filled with hundreds of people I don’t know. I did my best to portray confident leadership even though I was terrified that at any moment everyone was going to figure out that I didn’t have what it takes to do this.

After the last service this Sunday, thoughts raced through my head about the little mistakes that were made and I fought hard to not go to a place of mentally beating myself up for the 5% of things that went wrong. As I was talking in my head to myself about the 95% of things that went beautifully right, my dad came up and gave me a hug. You see, he had visited my new church that morning to support me in this transition.

“Thank you for sharing your God-given talents this morning.”

“My pleasure, Dad,”

He went on: “What was really neat to see was how comfortable you were up there. You look like you had been doing it forever.”

Tears started to form in my eyes….

“But, even better than how comfortable you were was, how real you were. I could tell that you really meant EVERYTHING you sang and said. From the lyrics of the songs to the prayer at the end, I know everyone could feel how true these things were for you personally….and that makes it really easy to worship right along with you.”

The tears flowed. “Man, thanks Dad…..that is really meaningful.”

Yes, sometimes, an old girl like me still needs her Daddy. I love you, Dad!

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My dad with our little baby girly.

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