I never had a Daddy, so I didn't learn how to be a daughter. Maybe that is why God gave me two of them--to teach me how a daughter loves her dadddy.
I remember when Christina, my oldest, was a toddler. She would fall into her fathers arms without a thought. She never wondered if he loved her, for no one could put up with what she put him through if they didn't love her. Dirty diapers turned to muddy shoes, and then to curling irons left on his sink, and now to cigarette butts left on the lawn. Does he love everything she does? No, some things are not that loveable.
But he loves her. No matter what she does. For she is his precious girl-and nothing she could ever do would change that. Christina is grown now, but she is still her daddy's precious girl.
And our Bethany. Opposite to Chris in so many ways--but precious in her own unique personality. Chris has brown eyes--and Beth's are blue. Chris is dark and Beth is fair. Our comedian toddler who kissed a frog, a few of them actually, daring them to turn into a prince. At seventeen, she has repeated her childhood behavior a couple of times, but still no prince--well, maybe one, lately. Daddy's princess still. He wraps her in his strong arms and she knows she is safe. Not because she is perfect--but because she is his.
And I am yours, Father God. You know I am not perfect--far from it. But I can still run into your arms and you will hold me. Day by day, moment by moment, I am learning how to be a daughter. Catch me, Daddy. Here I come!