Friday, June 25, 2010


happy belated father's day!

Sunday was yet another reminder of how lucky I am to be raised under such

I guess I just needed extra amounts of good fathering, because I'm blessed with Dads who pray and raise me still.

(I'm 25 and need all the help I can get.)

STAN:I love that my Dad STILL gets up
before the crack of dawn is a twinkle in the universe's eyes
to pray for me,
for others,
for my future spouse (uh, since I was first born... no joke).

I love that I still have wonderful memories of playing all sorts of made up games (which, as I look back now, all had some kind of strength/aerobic element for him...haha...multi-tasking?) from:

GusGus (the tickle bug),

to the

"Honey, I've lost my children" game
(he pretends he can't see us, which resulted in three kids jumping around and pulling at him saying,

to "Rough 'n Tumble",
the game where we got our aggression out by trying to tackle him repeatedly to the ground (side note: I was raised with two older brothers).

I love that I have lots of memories of him being just around, helping him in the yard, talking about not being able to date til I was 30....And I love that as I've gotten older, I've grown to love and respect him and his choices even more. He is a good man who walks in humility and joy. I have always said, and probably always will, that my Dad is ever FOR me. No matter where I am in life, he has my back. He is on my side.

(And he even sends me vitamins still.)

I love that he gives me weird glasses and pillows embroidered with his Stan-isms (which maybe aren't so eloquent, as it turns out....). I love that he loves to memorize the Word and always asks me, "What's the Book say?" He is SO solid.

I like how he strokes his mustache when he's thinking - though I hate that he's usually chewing a gross cigar. I love that claps loud and big during worship, brings his anointing oil every where he goes, but still claims he's not charismatic.

FRED:Since I've moved in with Fred and Mary, I've gotten to become a part of a family with a completely different dynamic.

Fred is a Dad who gives of himself - who dies to himself - on an

I've really never seen anything like it.
I myself (though just a recently inaugurated daughter) have been the recipient of many 'Dad' things, from a repaired A/C (amazing) to a half-birthday gift for school (!!!), to a father's ever-godly advice and encouragement.

One of my favorite things about claiming Fred as a father now is that every conversation I leave, no matter what we're talking about, I go away feeling like this girl:

("I like my hair! I like my hair cuts! I. Like.My.Whole.House!" *CLAP*)

Conversations with Fred make me feel like I can do ANYTHING.
Really. I can not only tackle huge, annoying obstacles of being yet-again jobless, but I can tackle them while imagining life as an exciting adventure that the Lord is taking me on.

I also can't say enough about how I respect the insatiability of his sweet tooth, his love for good books, and the perfect handwriting gene that he most obviously passed on to Anne. (Argh!! I shake my fist at the sky in crazed jealousy!) I loved that in college, before I even knew him as well as I did now, Anne and I would always pause as we considered doing something slightly un-Fred (like wondering whether or not we should speed or use a huge knife as scissors) and we would always stop because, well, "Fred just knows." We believed very strongly that Fred had direct downloads from God about our goings on in Waco, TX (180 miles away) and have proof to that point.

His patience and love for his family is this miraculous, unending fount that comes surely only from his time with His Lord, and I am so privileged to be a part of this home!

(And his Breakfast-in-a-Cup is a miracle in itself.)

What can I say? I am a 25-year-old with a penchant for excess-raising?

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