Flashlight Tag, Twizzlers, Ice Skating, and Algebra.

   I can remember when I was six.  I can remember Wednesday nights with Dad.  I would wait in anticipation all week for our night together.  Those were the nights that Mom and the two older siblings were at church; leaving Dad and I home to share adventures.  I can recall picking out cookie recipes and hauling games up from the basement; only to stack them in a pile on the family room floor.  We would clean the dinner dishes and begin baking.  We both rushed to the pantry grabbing the many ingredients.  Butter and sugar were creamed and the flour was sifted. 


   After several hours of sticky fingers, flour-ly floors, dirty measuring cups, sour mouth after realizing baking soda did NOT taste like soda, scattered chocolate chips on the counter, and dishes piling in the sink, we patiently waited as the smell of homemade chocolate chip cookies rose from the hot oven.  Those nine minutes seemed like eternity to me.  I sat on the stool; feet dangling, just waiting. We cleaned the kitchen until it was spotless. Dimming the lights in the kitchen, but leaving the oven light on, we pulled out the first game from the pile on the floor. Most likely it consisted of Candy Land, or Shoots and Ladders.  Then finally, the timer would ring. Running to shut it off, we peered into the glowing oven.  Yum. We stood there together and looked at the steaming hot cookies.  Chocolate drooled out of the cookies and our mouth watered.  Not wanting to spend the rest of the night with burnt tongues, we would decide to let the cookies cool. So we grabbed our shoes, jackets and flashlight and headed outdoors.  It was my favorite time of the evening; flashlight tag.  
   The summer breeze blew through my hair as we raced to the park.  Up and down the slides, back and forth on the monkey bars, flashlights glowing, panting, giggling, and riding on Dad's shoulders; we played tag until our hearts content. Then happy and content, we would walk back home; stopping to catch every firefly we caught a glimpse of.  Back home after changing into our pajamas, we would enjoy game number two, a tall glass of milk and a warm cookie. We would sit together and reminisce of the fun evening we had. Minutes later, the rest of the family would return home.  We would bombard them with stories of our evenings as they tasted a few of our fresh homemade cookies. Happily sighing, we would smile at each other and begin thinking of a new recipe for next Wednesday.

   Those were happy days in my six year old mind. And as I look back on it now, I cherish those memories. I am thankful for the moments I have with Dad.  I love hearing his deep voice close in prayer after family Bible study.  I like when I can ask him any question after reading the Bible and he knows the answer within a few minutes.  I like how he is strong and can lift pretty much anything. Just standing behind me, he makes me feel protected and safe.  I love how I can still crawl up in His lap and sit; even though I'm not six anymore.  I love holding his Bible, and looking at all the highlighted verses and pencil markings running down the pages; I feel so blessed to have been taught all the knowledge that he learned throughout the years of his life.  I like the grey hairs in his head and mustache. I love how he knows relationships, and who is best for me or who's not. I trust him with my future husband, sometimes I say, "Dad, find me a good one, you know my type."


   I like how he lies in the hammock after a long day at work; shoes and socks off and farmer's tan showing.  I like how he loves Twizzlers and licorice; potatoes and steak for dinner and coffee in the morning.  He is the best baseball player I know; he can hit as many home runs as we want and be pitcher for hours at a time.  He loves swimming just as much as I do, and board games too.  He wins at almost every game we play, but I love how he lets us win sometimes. :) I can remember wintertime and driving by the pond everyday waiting for the water to freeze. I remember being the first ones on the pond so many years ago to ice skate; and the time we went sledding and almost slid into the river!  He has a great sense of direction, we never get lost; I always miss him when I take a wrong turn. :P I love his jeep, and the patience he had with me while he taught me how to drive a stick. I love what a leader he is to our family and the love he shows to Mom. I love his garden, and how neat and organized it looks. Sweat drips down his face as he returns from weeding it on hot, sticky summer days. In his arms are fresh vegetables and I look up to see his proud smile as he hands them to me to wash for dinner. 


   When I was in school, he was the principle and math teacher. He got me through Algebra. :) He can solve any problem, and he knows just what to do when I have problems in life. I am thankful to God for blessing me with such a Dad.  I love him. :) Thank you Dad for being patient with me and teaching me every piece of wisdom you've learned. Thank you for loving me and caring for me, even when I'm not so pleasant. Oh to the happy days we have had, and more to come. :) 

   Stealing a quote from a friend on Sunday, "A father is someone who carries pictures in his wallet where his money used to be."-Unknown author. 

   Malachi 4:6 “He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.” Thankful for the vision my Dad has to lead us and be a prophet, priest and provider; thankful for his multigenerational vision, and his desire to seek the Lord. 

Happy Father's Day Dad!

To many more days of baking cookies.  (: