To say I miss you would be an understatement. Hardly a day goes by when I don't think of you. Just last night, as I lay in bed listening to you sing, I thought back to the day in July 2009 when you slipped that first $20 bill into my hand. "I have something for you," you said, "I don't know why, but I feel like I'm supposed to do this. It can be our little secret," and so for the next several Sundays you took my hand in yours and put a wrinkled $20 bill into my hand. By the time you went into the hospital five weeks later, you had blessed me with $100 which I tucked away awaiting its intended but unknown purpose. Months later I purchased a cassette tape converter to put your old recordings on CD's. It cost $99.
I have always been grateful for the gift of having you as my earthly father. God knew I would need a dad, who though not perfect, would be for me a shining example of what it means to live for Jesus. I've had my faith shaken, Dad, shaken to the core, but I'm still hanging on. Sometimes it feels like I'm hanging on by a thread, but I know God heard all those times you uttered my name and the names of my children in prayer and He is faithful even when my strength is weak. He is holding me.
Tomorrow is Father's Day. Thank you for being mine.
I am a work in the hands of the Master Potter. I pray that His fingerprints are all over me as I walk through this life. This is my journey. Thank you, Jesus, for not giving up on me.
I am mom to seven beautiful grown ups and grandma to ten beautiful grandchildren.