This is my husband.The one hanging in midair.
He was a pole vaulter in college, so despite his 40th birthday looming a few short months away, Joel continues to impress the youngsters at the pool with his mad skills. Gabe posed for this picture to put on the front of a homemade card for his dad. It was to say something like, "You're so cool you can still do flips in the air."
And he is. Cool.
I married him, in part, so that I could become more like him. More emotionally steady, more eager to meet and be very friendly to strangers, more able to stay up late at night and have a coherent thought. I don't know that I've actually grown in any of these things, but I do still admire them in my husband.
We have four kids. Four. When we were having kids I knew so many family with 4 or 6 or even 10 kids, that four actually felt almost small. But I've found that it's actually a big number. I thought the number would get smaller once my kids were bigger. Not that I'd have fewer kids, heaven help me if I lose one of these, but that it would feel smaller. I thought that as they became more independent, made it to the bathroom on their own, could speak, ride bikes and read books, that I'd sit back and relax and think how awesome it is to be a mom to these kids. And it is awesome, I wouldn't trade it for anything, but it is hard.
I am so thankful for Joel, my baby daddy to all four of my kids. When I feel like I'm going to bang my head against the wall if I hear one more comment about how they need more video game time, Joel steps in and explains the rules and that the kids need to respect me and give Mommy some grace. When I feel like a complete failure as a mom, he holds me and reminds me how loved our kids feel, how secure they are in that love, and that tomorrow is a new day. And when I have no idea what to do, how to help these boys become men (of God) or how to raise a pure and beautiful daughter in this sex saturated society, we seek the Source of all Wisdom together and figure it out step by step, day by day.
Sarah Groves' song about her husband says, "Life with you is half as hard and twice as good..."
So true.
But I think what is weighing most on my heart this father's day is what it is to watch my husband love our daughter. I see everything that I didn't have because my father lived across town.
The good morning kisses.
The middle of the night snuggles to keep bad dreams at bay.
The protective strength of father arms always there, always ready when Hope is scared or weak or hurt.
The pitiful efforts to do her hair or pick out an outfit when I'm not home.
The endearing terms that remind Hope how special she is to her daddy.
The intimate security of watching daddy kiss mommy and tell her he loves her.
The spontaneous dates to Taco Bell for no apparent reason.
The sound of that strong, sure voice shouting, "You can do it!" before she jumped off the diving board for the first time, or telling her, "It'll be okay," when it feels like it can't possibly be.
While I had many of these things every other weekend and I am thankful for that, the truth is I wish that I had had all of these things in my home as a little girl. But getting to watch my daughter get them brings so much joy to me that tears regularly spring to my eyes.
How thankful I am that in the love of my life, I also gave my daughter the joy and security of hers.
