Daddy’s hands

Pam’s Journey – Day 68

Miles walked: 190

Miles remaining: 810

Days remaining: 298

A few months ago, I remember hearing something on the radio about how our relationship with our dad strongly influences our thoughts toward God. Like if we live in fear of our earthly father then we might fear our Heavenly Father or if our earthly dad was gentle, loving, and always there for us, then we might feel that same way towards God. I’m not sure how true that is for everyone but I can attest that it’s pretty true for me.

When I was a kid, I was a Daddy’s girl. Not just a little bit.. I was 100% tomboy. Daddy’s girl. Where my Daddy went, I went. What my Daddy wore, I wanted to wear the same thing. If my Daddy didn’t like something, well you could bet your butt that I wouldn’t like it either! He was (and still is) my hero.

I used to sit next to him in his recliner and watch tv after supper. He would wrap his arm around me and I’d hold his hand. I remember how big his hands were then. They were hard-working hands with cuts and scrapes, hammer smashed fingernails, swollen knuckles from crushed fingers but they held me when I sat next to him.  Those hands shot baskets with me after work, they fixed whatever needed fixing, they picked me up from the sticker patch that I ran smack in the middle of with no shoes on, they held his bible at church every Sunday.

My dad is amazing. He’s so amazing that he is somewhat difficult to describe without sounding like a super-hero. My love, respect, trust, and faith in him is unfailing. I’m talking about my earthly daddy here. So, you can imagine how I feel about my Eternal Dad. Both of my Dad’s would move mountains for me. Heaven and earth couldn’t get in the way of their love for me.

My daddy got sick this summer.. real sick. He spent a week in the hospital with C-Diff, and almost didn’t make it. I live just far enough away from my parents that it’s hard to be there as often as I would like to be but not so far that I couldn’t see them more often if life wasn’t so busy all the time. I wanted to be there every day to see him and check on him but I couldn’t be. He got better and went home but it took a toll on him and even now, 7+ months later, he is still weaker than he used to be before he got sick.

After he went home from the hospital, he kept having some leg pain and shortness of breath and his family doctor set him up to see a cardiologist. On his first visit, he told him of these symptoms, they did a venous ultrasound and found a very large blood clot in his leg so they sent him straight to “the city” and admitted him in The Heart Hospital where they later found that he also had clots in his lungs. This is all happening to my daddy.. my daddy who never gets sick, who is the strongest man I’ve ever known, my daddy who was and still is my hero.

If you read Tasha’s post on Monday, you felt her unfailing love and faith for our God. (If you haven’t read it, You Must!) Well.. that is some tough faith. The night we found out that there were clots in my dad’s lungs, we (my mom and I) were at my house with my LifeGroup girls. Tasha prayed with us. I tried reassuring my mom that everything would be fine. My girls left and my mom and I went to bed… and then I prayed and cried and begged and pleaded that God would heal my dad. I did. I had faith, knowing that He can do all things. I acknowledged that His ultimate plan is more than I could ever comprehend, but I cried and prayed that I could have more time with my daddy.

I know that it’s God’s plan that is letting me have more time with my dad. He was started on blood thinners to break up the clots and he is still alive and well. He’s not “back to his old self”, but he’s here. He was here through the summer and able to do some fishing, he was here to take me out to another birthday dinner, he was here to take Taelor for her first season of deer hunting, and he will be here for another family Christmas this year.

I thank God for giving me more time with him because I know how precious it is. There will be a day when I don’t have that gift anymore… but while I do, I will love my dad and honor him for being such an amazing parent. I will thank him for raising me to be a responsible person with morals and values, for being such an inspiration and an awesome role model, for teaching me that there is a God who loves us and who sent His son to die for us, saving us from our sins.

If my relationship with my dad is any indication of my feelings for my God and Jesus, then there isn’t a stronger love possible. Thank you Daddy.


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