Just a girl. And her dad.

I had myself "A Week' a few weeks ago. Nothing horrible happened. There was nothing to grieve (except maybe my pride- I tripped down the stairs while an attractive man was coming up them. I told him to not take the stairs lightly. He didn't understand my humor. All I have to show from the incident is a dented ego and a bruise on my left thigh). There have not been any drastic life changes and despite the injured thigh and hurt pride, I have managed to persevere (imagine that!). No, nothing horrible. Just rough. It was chalk full of tough conversations, hurting hearts, overwhelming thoughts, running from one thing to the other, ending a job without having a new one, trying to figure out why my computer only shows 2/3 of the screen, and way too much physics reading. My precious Rav 4 has also not been herself lately. And so, being the single, 26 1/2 year old woman that I am, I did what I would like to think any other peer would do in the same situation. I went home and told my dad.

"How about this," he says, "if you pay for the emissions test, I'll go ahead and take care of your tabs." A relief floods over me. As he tells me to go grab my keys, for a moment I am irritated. I had an afternoon planned of physics and maybe a nap, then car crap. I check myself and my selfishness, find my keys, and meet him out front. It is a dreary day and feels more like early March than late June. As we drive out of our neighborhood I know what question is coming first. "So tell me what's going on in your life," he says with genuine interest. I smile, so glad he has asked. It doesn't get much better than debriefing life with my dad. Except for maybe chatting about it with my mom and best friends. I hesitate for about a second and then tell him everything. My stresses about classes, money, my future. Boys, lack of boys. My insecurities, my confidences. He understands my sarcasm (ie my love language). I tell him about some of my friends. I talk to him about God. All the while he listens and responds with reassuring responses. Encouraging me to share more. As if he, at 65, can absolutely understand and relate to me.

After I dish it all out in between emissions tests, figuring out my fuel injector issues, and filling my car with gas ("Why don't I go ahead and fill up your tank, sweetheart"), he says the words I don't know I am longing to here. "You know Court, I am just so proud of you." I am shocked. After hearing about all my crap and inadequacies, the man who is most caught up on all of it, is proud of me. We chat about who I'm becoming and what that means. We talk about men and time and how sometimes things with men take time. He makes me laugh about my plights and sees my life as something that has so much hope and so much brightness. He reminds me that there is a bigger plan for my life and in his own way, points me back to Christ. I got into the car earlier in the afternoon feeling like $1.50. By the time we are back home, I feel like a million bucks and then some.

He is not perfect, and he is often (though not always- sometimes he needs my help) the first to tell you that. And our Lord knows we butt heads. Where my mom has the sweet, quieter demeanor of letting things work themselves out, I have embodied the other part of the gene pool that involves passionately verbalizing how I feel, when I feel it. Believe it or not friends, this can at times lead to communication breakdown. Despite, and perhaps even because of his imperfections, my dad is my hero. In a world where a girl can feel like she is nothing without a great career, a husband and babies to show for herself, my dad is consistently present. He humbly loves God. He loves his wife well. And he is proud of his family. Of course I strive to look to God first. But my dad is pretty great.

It's late on a Tuesday night. I have no job to wake up for. No career to focus on. Yet. Not a whole lot of money in the bank account. I am not confident of what my future holds- I am more concerned about what it doesn't. Yet, I will sleep well tonight. I am a girl loved by her dad. Beautifully rreminded of how much intimately more her Heavenly Father must love her.

“You parents—if your daughter asks for a loaf of bread, do you give her a stone instead? Or if she asks for a fish, do you give her a snake? Of course not! So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him!" Matthew 7:9-11