What I Want My Daughters to Know

They come and go as they please.  

They hit me at odd times.  

Just this morning I was overwhelmed by them during my devotional time.

Memories!

More specifically, memories of my husband.

Memories of the kind of father he was to our two daughters.

From the time our first daughter was born, he set out to make sure she knew she was loved.

He changed diapers, he fed her the bottle, he gave her a bath, he rocked her to sleep, he read her stories (and he hated to read!); there was nothing he wouldn't do in the care of that baby.

He loved; no, he delighted in making his girls laugh!

Nothing meant more to him than the time he spent with these two!

Early mornings on his day off, they would pile in bed on top of him and the fun (or torture, from my point of view) began!  He would get up to go to the bathroom and when he came back they would be hiding under the covers.  Pretending he didn't know they were there, he would lay down on the bed gently on top of them.

"Donna, I think the bed is moving."

"Oh, this bed sure is lumpy."

"Wait a minute, I really think this bed is moving.  Is there something in my bed?"

"Oh, I'm really scared.  There IS something in my bed!"

Then they would pop out yelling and he would pretend to be scared and say, "I didn't know you were in my bed.  You really scared me!"  And there would be more yelling and giggling!

This ritual would be repeated untold numerous times over the years and they (and he) never tired of it!

He was always joking around with them; stealing their desert at dinner time by pointing to something and saying, "Look at that!"  When they looked away, he would snatch it!  I can't tell you how many times they fell for that.

Saturday morning was "trip to the dump" day.  "Buck" and his "Buckettes" would get in his truck and take a trip to the dump.  They loved being his "Buckettes!"

As they grew older, he would take them on "dates."  He counseled, gave advice, volunteered to be "Chef" at several school and youth group functions.  Our oldest daughter played basketball and countless nights he made the trip from Colchester to Williston to pick her up from an away game in the wee hours of the morning.  And the water fights we would have at the dinner table!!  He was always the instigator teaching my girls how to have fun and really mean it!!

I want my daughters to remember these times with their Dad.

I want my daughters to know and remember that he loved them.

I want my daughters to know that he delighted in their presence.

I want my daughters to know there was nothing he wouldn't do for them, for their welfare, to protect them, to guide them, to help them to achieve their dreams.

I want my daughters to know he was proud of them; proud of the women they became.

But there's something else I want my daughters to know.

I want my daughters to know that they have a Father in heaven who loves them more than their earthly father ever could.

I want my daughters to know that even though their earthly father is no longer here on earth with them, they have a Father that constantly looks out for their welfare, He protects them, He guides them, and He wants to help them achieve their dreams.

He loves them with an everlasting love and with loving kindness He continually draws them (Jeremiah 31:3).

I want my daughters to know this Father delights in them.

This Father sings and dances over them.

He rejoices over them.

"The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing."

Zephaniah 3:17

"....for the Lord delights in thee,......as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall thy God rejoice over thee."

Isaiah 62:4d, 5b

Their Dad was simply God's ambassador here on earth to express "God with skin on" to them for the short time he was with us.  And he did his job well.

I don't particularly care whether or not my daughters can quote chapter and verse.

I don't care if they don't know the Greek or Hebrew of a particular word.

I'm not overly impressed with their knowledge of certain theology.

All of that is wonderful and certainly beneficial.

But I want my daughters to know, I want them to believe and be assured, just as they were of their earthly Dad's love, of God's great love for them!

I want my daughters to know Him and His love.

And He wants them to know that, too!