i’m told on a regular basis to not take my family for granted. i’m trying not to. i’m determined to note all the outrageously spoiling aspects of where i come from and who i live with and not let those moments pass me by as i think, this is how it always is, right?
last night i fell asleep to the sound of my daddy strumming his guitar and singing praise to our God. mighty is our God, mighty is our King… he ended a stressful and difficult day by worshiping and praying. that’s who he is — that’s what i think of when i think of my dad.
for me that’s normal. it’s not strange or weird or mind-boggling. that’s how it’s always been. but i never want to be blind to the preciousness of having a father who adores God above all else and seeks Him with all his being.
most people say they have the best father. i think i really do.
like like like like like.
oh.
this isn’t facebook.
I think you really do, too!