I don’t think I even have a “favorite” memory when it comes to him. They are all favorites.

The time when we asked him to come play in the sprinklers with us and he told us he was too busy. So, we walked away dejectedly only to be completely surprised a few minutes later when he attacked us with the hose.

The time when I went with him to work and he took me out to lunch at the fanciest place I’d ever been to at that point. I sat there so carefully and tried not to spill anything. I felt like a princess.

The time when I got in a car accident at 17 and instead of lecturing me about following the man in front of me too closely, he just gave me a long hug and asked me if I was okay.

The time when I first was becoming interested in Jon and we met for a lunch date and I had to have him explain exactly what a deep snapper was. He patiently explained “football lingo” to me while grinning the whole time.

The time when he squeezed my hand so tight as we tried to walk sort of with the beat of the music down the aisle. I’d been worried about tripping on my dress. I shouldn’t have worried. Even if I had tripped, he would have held me up.

I’m talking about my Dad.

We’re nothing alike, but we have so many things in common. My lack of rhythm? Totally my dad’s fault. My dry sense of humor? Completely my dad’s doing. My tendency toward perfectionism in my work? Yups, that’s my dad. I wish I’d inherited more of his mind for math, but those geometry homework sessions live in infamy instead (let’s put it this way: there were tears and plenty of them).

We used to have a book when we were little kids and it was called “My Dad Is Brilliant.” And for the longest time, I thought it really was written about my dad. The man in the book even looked something like my dad – tall, brown hair, mustache.

My dad really is brilliant. He has one of the best minds for theology and logic and I already mentioned the math. Anytime I had a question growing up about something I’d read – whether it be in the Bible or in a school book – Dad always knew the answer.

Dad’s a fickle Cowboy fan, a lifetime A&M football fanatic and an avid lover of my mom’s infamous chocolate chip cookies (because no one makes them as good as her!). He’s overwhelmingly generous, incredibly hardworking, and snort-inducingly funny.

He’s not the “huggy” type, which is why God gave him a daughter like me who is all about the hugs. He’s awfully good at board games and is always up for a movie night. He tells the worst jokes in the world – so stupid that they’re hilariously funny.

He’s my favorite Dad.

God has given me an incredible gift in my dad. But if you’re reading this and you don’t have a father like this, if your dad is not a blessing, if you don’t feel loved, take heart. God cares for the fatherless. He is your Heavenly Father. It says in Psalm 103 that “As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him.” If you don’t have a godly father, run to your Heavenly Dad.

And if you, like me, have an amazing dad, I hope that we’ll never take him for granted. Being a dad has to be hard work – especially if you had an annoying little kids like I was! 🙂

I love you, Dad. Happy 50th birthday! 🙂