Thank you, Dad

Tomorrow is my dad's birthday. February 18th. 
My dad and I share this same birth month. As we said goodbye yesterday afternoon, I told him, "Happy birthday." He smiled and responded, "You, too!" I smiled. 

Something exists in my dad that I long to grab hold of and build inside of me. He is a man of great patience. That picture above? I looked out the window of my childhood bedroom the other day, to see my faithful dad outside shoveling the driveway. Steady. Unrushed. Thorough. One solid step in front of the other. (His third daughter? Not so much. I rush, I scurry, I have a furrowed brow. I make messes and regret my haste. My dad? He patiently completes his work, whatever the task on his mind. Quietly, focused, paced. Not rushed. I sigh. Can this trait be grown in this impatient daughter of his?)
Thank you for humbly modeling this, Dad.

It was in the midst of graduate school that I began to be blessed with recognizing a bit more of my dad in myself. (Well, what I want to see in myself!)
The way he is a man of carefully chosen words. Not full of unnecessary comments, but instead well-thought out words for conversation. The result is this: when my dad speaks, others listen. This is beauty. 
Thank you for your words, Dad.

I am living my adult years in the same town of his childhood days. What an unexpected, yet tremendous, connection we share! My heart swells with pride in this home of mine, his hometown... now the very place my own children call their hometown. And now the stories and details of his growing up days are understood and cherished in an entirely different, real way. Connection. Reconnection with Hurd relatives. My dad's and my evenings we worked side by side, planting flowers outside my little white house. 
Thank you for your devotion, Dad.

My dad has the most contagious laughter. When he laughs, you will, too. Especially when listening to those infamous jokes from that infamous little black notebook. When he laughs, his face is completely involved. His eyes dance and you cannot help but smile, even join in. 
Thank you for your joy, Dad.

I have the same uniquely pointed elbows as my dad. 

I have the same freckled, sensitive skin. 

I have the same preference to not be in front of crowds, to not be the center of attention. We do it when we are needed, but we prefer to be behind the scenes, I believe.

Thank you for sharing these traits with me, Dad.

Never will I forget that day I approached my dad for advice. It was a conflicted situation with a friend. I yearned to reconcile, but was also oh-so nervous. His experienced words of wisdom are etched in my memory. ("May the words of my heart and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, Oh Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14) 
Thank you for your support, Dad.

Another cherished memory from years back? When I was engaged to be married, when my dad and I went on a date night. Crystal Tree for dinner and "Finding Nemo" in the theater. A rare gift, which I hoped to make more tangible with a stuffed Nemo for my dad. How proudly the bright orange stuffed fish was placed on my parents' navy-burgundy-white quilted bedspread. Not caring it completely clashed, but my dad shared Nemo was the only (one of the only?) stuffed animals he ever received. Made me smile big every time I passed their bedroom. 
Thank you for your love, Dad.

My dad is a man with a burden to pray. A man of prayer. Prayed at our wedding. Prays for his children. Prays for the world. Continues to pray, always pray. With tears in his voice. How I love that he can't help but show his heart with his emotions. You cannot help but receive the genuine from my dad.
Thank you for your heart, Dad.

My dad taught us kids to learn the Bible. To memorize. Even when remembering the agonizing repetition he had us do to review our AWANA verses, I now appreciate his emphasis on the Word. He has read the Bible. Often. Daily. Dedicated. 
Thank you for the life lessons, Dad.

And now I cannot stop these thank you notes for you, my dad:

For those family adventures as we traveled in my growing up days. Countless memories of unique scenes taken in, lessons learned, history made real, creation appreciated, family growing in our bond. 
Thank you, Dad.

For transcribing our simple thoughts into those small diary books as we read Bible stories and Mini & Maxi Muffin books with you each night. We learned how routine and questions taught us to understand our faith, even in that childlike way. For drawing The Bridge illustration for me on that May 22, 1988 Sunday morning when we returned home after church. And praying with me those words as I made that choice to follow Jesus with my life.
Thank you, Dad.

For enjoying your Balder grandsons. For helping them feel special, feel smart and unconditionally treasured, for causing them to laugh. For giving of your hours to play alongside those energetic little boys. Who may someday be husbands, dads, grandpas themselves. 
Thank you, Dad.

For teaching me how to do my best as a parent. Priorities, love, discipline, love, modeling, love, affection, love, boundaries, love. How each night, my boys insist I ask them, "And WHO loves you most of all?" "JESUS!" (Hmm, wherever did that question and answer come from?) For passing on important traditions, like The Purple Book at Christmastime
Thank you, Dad.

For being committed to my mom. For helping with the dishes after meals. For shoveling the driveway. For getting all those oil changes. For writing those notes overflowing with words of affection for her. For allowing us kids to feel stable and secure in your marriage to mom. For always giving her those kisses while we faked being grossed out. For lovingly caring for her after her hip surgery. For consciously/unconsciously showing me through daily life what kind of man to choose as my own husband. 
Thank you, Dad.

This list could continue with words and more words... So much more I could add.
I hope you can recognize what a man of humility and respect and character and integrity you are, Dad.
Thank you for being faithful and dedicated and a man of faith and commitment. For providing for your family. For teaching me what is most important in this life.

Happy birthday, Dad. As I tell my boys, I love you to the moon and back, just in case you ever wonder!

Father of the bride, in pictures...

 (My dad, quietly serving, to make a day special.)