Being A Dad And Losing My Daughter.

Some of the biggest moments on the Race happen in the smallest of things. This story is one of them.
 
My team, along with another, is partnering with a pastor and his very small church, serving the people of Manila, Philippines. We do a variety of ministries including feedings, skits, preaching, community service, etc. When the days are over, our teams are exhausted, so we try and find ways to rest. One way is going to the grocery store! Never in my life have I ever been so excited to go to a grocery store; air condition, cold drinks, candy! It’s like paradise when you work in the filthiest places on the planet and live on the floor of the church with only a small wall fan to cool you off in the triple digit heat.
 
So my team and I were getting ready to go on our way to the grocery store; our mouths drooling from the thought of ice cream, bodies twitching for the upcoming feelings of cool air. The way we travel is by these weird mini-buses. You pile everyone on this sweaty machine and head off into the mayhem that is Filipino traffic. The story starts with us about to go on the bus. The pastor and his 10 year old daughter were helping us get two buses for our teams. It’s somewhat difficult traveling with 15 people, and usually takes a little bit longer to find public transportation for all of us. But after a couple minutes of trying to flag down some of these metal deathtraps, we finally found two buses. Now, I didn’t know the pastor and his daughter was coming, and that the pastor would be going in the other bus. So when the daughter grabbed my hand and entered the bus with me, I immediately started to feel uneasy.
 
Her name is Blessed. She’s a sweetheart, loves to talk about her favorite things, and has stolen a little bit of my heart. Every time our teams go out to do ministry and she tags along, I can always bet on her running up to be and grabbing my hand. Her favorite color is green, she loves swimming, and now she is sitting next to me without her dad heading off to the grocery store.
 
I think I may have freaked myself out in my head a little bit. She was fine. But for me, I felt scared for her. How was she going to feel being with us without her dad? Will she feel safe? Will she be okay without him there? What if I was her dad? How would I know where she was at? What would I do if I didn’t know she came with us and I get back home and she’s gone? What if she gets lost?
 
All of these questions were popping up in my head, and for a moment, this moment I’ve never had in my life, I felt like a father.
 
She put her hands on my knees as the bus started its travel to the grocery store. She seemed alright, and I obviously didn’t want her to see I was flipping out in my mind. So I proceeded to try and get her mind off of her being without her dad. I took my phone out and we played video games. She enjoyed laughing at playing basketball and skee-ball. And as every laugh echoed into my ear, my father-like panic was soothed to a father-like joy.
 

Before I knew it, we were there. And low and behold, coming out of the second bus was the pastor. My calmness finally came back Blessed ran to her dad, and as quickly as this moment came, it quickly passed into a memory.
 
I don’t think I’ve ever felt a father moment like I did that day. I’ve had moments where I certainly thought of how I am gonna be as a dad. I’ve had moments that, as I pick up a baby or teach a kid how to skateboard, I thought to myself “I can’t wait to be a dad.” But to feel it, like a quick sip of your friends drink, is something else. And as I sat down in the grocery store and started eating my newly purchased Butterfingers bar and chugging down my cold Red Bull, I simply thanked God for giving these big moments in the smallest of things.