Daddy, Don't Let Go

Last weekend was "my weekend." My weekend comes way too slowly and when it finally arrives, passes way too quickly. Sometimes it's so hard being a divorced father. The kids and I take turns picking what we'll do on those special weekends. This past weekend was my five- year-old daughter's turn to pick. She loves to ice skate (not that easy to do in sunny Dallas) with me.

I grew up in Kansas. We had plenty of ice 4-5 months of the year. I don't remember when I learned to ice skate. I do remember how much I loved being with my high school friends on weekend nights, ice skating and then warming up around the fire.

All weekend long, all my daughter talked about was ice-skating. Daddy, when are we going to go ice skating? Daddy, can we go now? Oh how I miss the excitement of being five years old again.

Finally, Sunday came and we went to the ice skating rink at the shopping center. Now I am sure that many of you are like me and don't enjoy the cold or being out in the cold. After all, I live in Dallas for a reason, to stay warm. The skating rink is so cold. They keep it that way, something about the ice melting; I personally believe it's to help the people freeze. I dressed in my sweats so I could stay warm (I've been to the rink before after all) and so I added a few layers to help keep warm.

Now to a five year old, the ice is like snow. They would never consider even worrying about staying warm until after they get cold. Consider a coat? Never crosses their mind.

"Let's go Daddy!" she said as impatience set in. I hurried the best I could and took her hand as we stepped on to the ice. I find, as I get older, it takes longer for my body to adjust to new or different environments. My brain is thinking be careful don't fall, my feet are saying wait a minute what happened to the shoes? All this is going on in my brain and I notice my arm is being yanked by a five year old about to fall. I muster my balance, use all the strength I can find to keep her from falling. We stabilize and begin skating together.

I often tell my daughter how much I enjoy her holding my hand and how special I feel when she holds my hand. I notice she is holding on tight, a death grip on my hand. I try to relax my grip so I don't squeeze her little hand too tight. She looks up at me and said "Daddy, don't let go".

I tell her not to worry, I won't let go of her hand. I see the fear in her eyes. The fear of falling and hitting the ice. I know I won't let go. I realize how hard it will be to let go. I realize how hard it will be to
ever let her hand go.

As we skate, I think about how my faith is like holding God's hand. How in the hard times I look to God and say don't let go. How my fear tests my faith and the grip God has on my life and me. How I worry about falling from my faith. How God's love tells me He'll never let go.

I realize; I understand the fear a five year old feels. We skate together, father and daughter. I get lost in the love we share and the feeling of being her support. Being her father and the closeness we share. Being the father she relies on for those times she needs help, support and love.

Sound familiar?

Funny how we see it so clearly with our kids, but so totally miss it with our Heavenly Father.

I learned a lot this past weekend. I grew closer to my kids and I grew in my faith. I thought about how in a few years I will drop her off at the mall with her friends or the day she starts driving and backs out of the driveway in our car, and the day (I dread this one the most) that will come much too quickly when I walk her down the aisle. I learned it will be me, not her saying - Don't let go.

Author Unknown

Life’s Storm

A pastor had been on a long flight between church conferences. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten Your Seat Belts. Then, after a while, a calm voice said, “We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened.”

As the pastor looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive.

Later, the voice on the intercom said, “We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us.”

And then the storm broke …

The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightning lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.

The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him. He said, “As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm.

“Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and every- thing within her small world was calm and orderly.

“Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world. When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid.” The minister could hardly believe his eyes.

It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, our pastor lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time.

Having commented about the storm and the behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.

The child replied, “Cause my Daddy’s the pilot, and he’s taking me home.”

Author Unknown

What Is A Father?

A father is a person who is forced to endure childbirth without an anesthetic. He growls when he feels good and laughs very loud when he is scared half-to-death.

A father never feels entirely worthy of the worship in a child's eyes. He is never quite the hero his daughter thinks. Never quite the man his son believes him to be. And this worries him sometimes. (So he works too hard to try to smooth the rough places in the road of those of his own who will follow him.)

A father is a person who goes to war sometimes... and would run the other way except that war is part of an important job in his life (which is making the world better for his children than it has been for him).

Fathers grow older faster than other people, because they, in other wars, have to stand at the airport and wave goodbye to the uniform that climbs on board the plane.

And, while mothers cry where it shows, fathers stand and beam... outside... as they endure the pain inside.

Fathers are men who give daughters away to other men who aren't nearly good enough, so that they can have children that are smarter than anybody's.

Fathers fight dragons almost daily. They hurry away from the breakfast table off to the arena, which is sometimes called an office or a workshop. There they tackle the dragon with three heads: Weariness, Works, and Monotony. And they never quite win the fight, but they never give up.

Knights in shining armor; fathers in shiny trousers. There's little difference as they march away each workday.

And when a Father passes away, and after a good rest, he won't just sit on a cloud and wait for the girl he's loved and the children she bore. He'll be busy there too... repairing the stars, oiling the gates, and in general helping smooth the way for others.

Author Unknown

Who’s Your Daddy

A seminary professor was vacationing with his wife in Gatlinburg, TN.

One morning, they were eating breakfast at a little restaurant, hoping to enjoy a quiet, family meal. While they were waiting for their food, they noticed a distinguished looking, white-haired man moving from table to table, visiting with the guests.

The professor leaned over and whispered to his wife, “I hope he doesn’t come over here.” But sure enough, the man did come over to their table.

“Where are you folks from?” he asked in a friendly voice.

“Oklahoma,” they answered.

“Great to have you here in Tennessee” the stranger said. “What do you do for a living?”

“I teach at a seminary,” he replied.

“Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I’ve got a really great story for you.” And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with the couple.

The professor groaned and thought to himself, “Great… Just what I need another preacher story!”

The man started, “See that mountain over there? (pointing out the restaurant window). Not far from the base of that mountain, there was a boy born to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he went, he was always asked the same question, ‘Hey boy, who’s your daddy?

“Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask the same question, ‘Who’s your daddy?’ He would hide at recess and lunch time from other students. He would avoid going in to stores because that question hurt him so bad.

“When he was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. He would always go in late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, ‘Who’s your daddy?’.

But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast he got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. Just about the time he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing anything about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, ‘Son, who’s your daddy?’

“The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the church looking at him. Now everyone would finally know the answer to the question, “Who’s your daddy’.

This new preacher, though, sensed the situation around him and using discernment that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following to that scared little boy… “Wait a minute!” he said, “I know who you are, I see the family resemblance now. You are a child of God.” With that he patted the boy on his shoulder, and said, “Boy, you’ve got a great inheritance, go and claim it.” With that, the boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked out the door a changed person.

He was never the same again. Whenever anybody asked him, ‘Who’s your Daddy?’ he’d just tell them, “I’m a Child of God”

The distinguished gentleman got up from the table and said, “Isn’t that a great story?”. The professor responded that it really was a great story!

As the man turned to leave, he said, “You know, if that new preacher hadn’t told me that I was one of God’s children, I probably never would have amounted to anything!” And he walked away.

The seminary professor and his wife were stunned. He called the waitress over and asked her, “Do you know who that man was who just left that was sitting at our table?”

The waitress grinned and said, “Of course, everybody here knows him. That’s Ben Hooper. He’s the former governor of Tennessee!”

Author Unknown