For 50 years my dad has stood before me, stood beside me and stood behind me. He has never fought a battle I could fight. Instead, he taught me to be a warrior. He taught me to pick my battles, let things go and forgive, even when I didn't want to. He is constantly changing my perspective to one of grace and mercy. He taught me to stand my ground, but more importantly he taught me how to retreat, regroup, and be a survivor.
I learned from my father that happiness is a choice, not a destination. With every phone call in the morning and I say, "good morning," he responds, "and a beautiful morning it is." He sees a thousand ways a day, that God is good. He notices the little things that others pass by, like a flower blooming amidst the rocks, or a raindrop caught on a spiders web. He declares these "gifts" good, and happiness is born. My dad inspires me to live a life like that. I want my eyes to see God's beauty everywhere, everyday, in a thousand simple ways. I want to choose happiness.
I love that my dad's birthday is so close to Thanksgiving. Sometimes it even falls on Thanksgiving. As I am preparing the week of Thanksgiving and thinking of all the things I am thankful for, my dad is right there in my thoughts. Fifty years of Thanksgiving is not enough time to fully honor the gift that God has given me, my dad. Every year I am thankful for one more year with my father. One more year of coffee and pie in the mornings. One more year of sitting beside him at one of my children's plays. One more year of, "and a beautiful morning it is."
A toast to my father. thank you for being God's beautiful gift to me. Thank you for teaching me that when I can't see the hand of God, I have to trust the heart of God.