Dear Dad,
What’s up, Steveo? I’m laying here on a mattress (read: firm pad) thinking about how sore I am. I told you that I’m living on a farm, right? I’m digging holes and carrying buckets of human feces to fertilize plants. You always told me I’d do great things!
I’m writing you this because I miss you. A lot. My host this month, Pat, is the best of friends with his oldest daughter. Watching them interact with each other makes me miss you. Hearing Pat tell us how much he loves his daughter makes me miss you. Watching his daughter get embarrassed by him makes me miss you. Honestly, everything about their relationship makes me miss you.
I’ve always tried to be a good daughter. And I know there are times I’ve failed, but for this letter’s sake let’s just say I’m pretty freaking great 😉 I’ve said thank you at least once, right? If not- thanks, dad. This letter isn’t to tell you thank you, though. No, this letter is to tell you something entirely different.
Dad, I’m mad at you.
I’m mad that you would do anything for me. I’m mad that you fight for me, day after day, year after year. I’m mad that you provide for me. I’m mad that you tell me you’re proud of me.
I’m mad that I can hear you more than the Father. I’m mad that I see you as more loving than God. I’m mad that you love me so well that I can’t see how our Father could possible love me more.
The Race breaks people, Dad. It’s exhausting- physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. And it’s to teach us that we have to rely on our Father. But right now all I want is you. I just want my dad. I want you to hug me and tell me you’re proud of me and that everything will be okay.
Actually no, that’s not true. I want God to hug me, and tell me he’s proud of me and that everything will be okay. I want to feel God fight for me the same way I feel you fight for me.
I love you, Dad, but I’m mad at you. You made me believe that my earthly father is equivalent to my Heavenly Father. Dad you love me so well that I’m mad about it.
So, there you have it- I’m mad at you. Well, I was. But then I realize that our Father gave me the best dad because He loves me. Because when I can’t feel Him hugging me, you are. Because when I can’t hear Him say He’s proud of me, He reminds you to tell me. Because when I can’t hear Him say everything will be okay, He tells you to remind me.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
~2 Corinthians 1:3-4
Thank you for being a blessing without knowing it, Dad. Thank you for showing me the Father’s love without knowing it.
I love you,
Bug
