Ultimate Father

One of my most treasured memories is of a bright summer day when children’sshouts of laughter could be heard, and a breeze cooled my face. I’d been playing with my neighborhood friends, but the sun was setting, and everyone had headed home. Being the not-so-girlie child that I was, I sat covered in dirt (probably from catching frogs) with my legs crossed on the side of the street so I could pick the caked-on mud out of the treads of my shoes with a stick. Dred drooped my pigtails and shoulders as I imagined the reprimands I was about to receive for ruining my clothes.I warily eyed the car as the window rolled down on the passenger side, and I glimpsed my father dressed in his crisp white shirt with his business suit jacket draped over the passenger seat. I held my breath trying to gauge his reaction to my mess. But the lecture never came. Instead, he beamed a big smile and said, “Hey beautiful. When did you get so pretty?”I can’t remember what I said back. I might not have said anything, but after my shock had worn off, I jumped up and raced after his car ready to go home.Another thing my dad did was to sit in the front row of my school performances and mouth the words along with me. I believe God does the same. He is there in the front row of our lives cheering us on. He’s there with open arms when we run home. He’s beside us whispering in our ears, “You are my masterpiece.” He’s behind us gently redirecting and correcting saying, “This is the way. Walk in it.” He’s the ultimate father.Happy Father’s Day!