I realized this weekend what was missing
I mean, I really can't believe I forgot this
How could I? It doesn't seem possible, given my history.
And yet, somehow, I went off and left the major way I relate to God...
As my Daddy.
I have a ridiculously soft spot in my heart when I hear about dads, and especially when talking about God as Dad or mentioning just about anything pertaining to my own Dad. This is because, with God's help as he will tell you, my human Dad was probably the best Dad there ever was. No seriously. He was. He beats them all.
My Dad was at every dance recital, still excitedly relaying stories of his favorite dances-namely our "Stomp" number.
My Dad even went so far as to dance with me in the kitchen. Crazy hilarious dance moves. Which, of course, we brought to the dance floor at my brother's wedding reception. I don't think anyone was having as much fun as we were.
My Dad taught me to trust in my abilities. He was the best person to learn how to drive from, because he just sat back and said "I trust you," and the next thing I knew, I ended up with a license.
My Dad relayed the importance of building people up. As a coach, he was a perpetually positive and encouraging man. And I LOVED it. He always talks up my mom as his biggest cheerleader, and they're happily married now 31 years. He also talks up my bro, sis-in-law, and me as well, and has done so for as long as I can remember. He believes in us and he's proud of us.
My Dad showed me the importance of laughter. Of not taking myself too seriously, of the beauty of a corny joke or rhyme (not to mention, Bill Cosby stand-up), the ability to laugh at one's self and the freedom to be wrong.
I've noticed in my life that the times I really regret are those days when I forgot to be myself. When I forgot to be that girl or that woman that my Dad sees when he looks at me. When I forgot to believe in myself, forgot to laugh at myself, and, sadly, those days I forgot to dance. And instead, I replaced those important qualities with fear-a fear of failure, leading to perfectionism and procrastination, fear of losing control so I work even harder at keeping it (a vicious cycle), and the fear of being told I'm wrong. And sadly, what I've found is when fear tells me what to do, pride is right behind it. I cover up, so my pride can't be hurt. I don't say I've done something wrong, because pride won't allow it. I don't share my true heart, and allow others to do the same, because pride isn't vulnerable. And, probably the worst effect, I think anything good that's coming into my life is of my own doing.
The beauty of a Dad is that he can be, in human form, a manifestation of who God is and how He sees us. God sees us as his kids, not in a condescending way, but in a "I'm ridiculously in love with you, you're an extension of me, I can't wait to see what great things you do with this life" kind of way. Also in a "I want you to walk with me, follow me, and get excited and get ready, because I'm going to take you on grand adventures and teach you loads of cool things that I know you'll love and we'll do them together" kind of way.
And so those days I forgot who my Dad said and thought I was, I more importantly, forgot who God said and thought I was.
This is where I've found myself recently. At a place where people-pleasing, perfectionism, and pride-this disgustingly self-absorbed trifecta-rules my thoughts, actions, and personality.
But God, just like my Dad, is faithful to his kids. No matter how long I've gone without calling or listening to him or how off course I've gotten, when I call He's super stoked and probably has a good story for me, or something cool He wants to show me (I mean, I live in Colorado...everything seems to shout: "Brittni!!! Look at this AMAZINGLY beautiful world I made!! And YOU get to live in it! Drink deep droughts of my love. Enjoy. Laugh. Live. Grow. Become. Be strong and courageous. And let My perfect love cast out all of your fears".
And so today, I once again remember my Dad. I pray for many, many more years of making memories with him here on this earth. I pray for many, many more kids to have the kind of dad I did, and if it's not their biological dad, that another amazing man will fill that spot for them. I pray that everyone will get to know God as a Dad-and that it will bring fond, good feelings, as they find out just how deep, wide,
