My Daddy’s House

I love my Daddy’s house.
A big white house with a red roof, snuggled down in the middle of the woods, surrounded by big pecan trees and lots of animals, it’s one of my favorite places on Earth.

I love to wake up in the old farm house and see the sun streaming in through the windows. Cool grass beneath my feet in the mornings and days spent laying in the back yard on an old quilt, staring at the clouds. My heart is filled with so many precious memories of that place.

But more than that, it is the feeling of my Daddy’s house that you get as soon as you walk in the front door. It is safe. It is full of love. It is a refuge when everything else seems to be falling apart. I know that my daddy loves me and I rest in his love. He loves it when I come over and when I tell him all of my problems. He loves to hear my opinions and all of the stories in my heart. There have been so many times when I have come home to my daddy with a heavy heart and He always has the same remedy- Sit down baby girl, tell me about it, and I’ll cook you some good ol’ soul food. My daddy believes that macoroni and cheese and collard greens heal the soul. I think he might be right. The message that I receive from my daddy is that I am loved. I am cherished. He wants to take care of me, no matter what.

I lived with my daddy throughout college, all of the most stressful moments, and I have spent many hours sitting at his kitchen table and talking with him while he stirred a big ol’ pot of collard greens. Those are the moments that mend the soul, that speak deep to the heart of a daughter. Those are the moments when every second invested is magical because there is nothing like a Daddy’s love and what that teaches a girl.

When I wanted to go to college, it was my daddy’s approval that I sought.
When I wanted to marry Chris, I went to my daddy to see what he thought about him.
On my wedding day, it was my daddy that I first saw and sought out the answer to my question “Am I beautiful?”

It is a Daddy’s love that molds and shapes the way we grow. It is our Daddy’s heart that speaks to our own hearts, letting us know that we are safe. It is our daddy who first shapes our opinions of God. Our relationships with our earthly fathers teach us how to see our heavenly father. Even when they don’t realize it, our daddys are teaching us about God.

Does God listen to me?
Does God think that I am beautiful?
Does God really care about my problems?
I found the answer to all of these questions in my earthly father, and then, afterwards, in my heavenly father.

I have been so blessed to have the kind of Daddy that gives the same answers to those questions as my Daddy God. Yes, He wants to hear my voice. Yes, He thinks I am the most beautiful girl in the world. And yes, of course, he cares about every single problem, even the smallest ones.

My heart will always treasure my Daddy and give thanks for the way he loves me. It is because of His love, that I understand God’s love even more.

In January, I moved 3,000 miles away from home. 3,000 miles away from the big white farm house with the red roof and all of the animals. 3,000 miles away from my Daddy. Our first month in Peru came with lots of joy, and lots of tears. There were so many nights when I just sat up and cried because there was a part of my heart that needed to be able to drive over to my Daddy’s house and listen to his advice, or just to tell him about my day. I felt so lost here in this huge place. One day I told Chris that I couldn’t live here anymore because “there are no Daddy’s here. And especially not mine.”

In my heartache, I set out to seek the Lord. Desperately. And He was waiting on me with arms wide open. He called me to come and to sit at his table, to pour my heart out, to cry. He caught every tear. He told me to come to my Daddy’s house, and then I understood for the first time that I do have a Daddy here in Peru. My Daddy’s house is here. He is always waiting for me. I went to church the next morning and stood outside of my Daddy God’s house, and He invited me to come inside. 

Here, in Peru, my Daddy’s house is a little different. It is an old building with tile floors at the entrance. Once inside, you walk through swinging doors and enter into a huge old theater. God opened my eyes and my heart to see that this was His house and my place of refuge here. The whole church has burnt orange carpet from the 70’s. I obviously love it. There are no windows, but the ceiling is very high and it feels open and lovely. Instead of pews or chairs, we sit down in old cushy theater seats. This is my Daddy’s house. I join with my brothers and sisters and sing praises to my Daddy God in Spanish. I listen to my Pastor teach about the goodness and faithfulness of my Daddy and I know it to be true. After church, instead of macoroni and cheese and collard greens, my Daddy provides a huge lunch of chicken and rice and potatoes for me to eat. My heart is full. My Daddy is here. He loves me and he catches me in His arms. He is with me. 

Thank you, Daddy God, for reminding me that no matter where I am in the world, I can always find you. Or rather, you will always find me. Thank you for reminding me that your house is that safe place of refuge for me, the safest place. 

Thank you, to my Daddy Eddie, for teaching me so much about God’s love for me and for always being there for me. Thank you for always making me feel like a princess. I am so thankful that God gave you to me to be my Daddy!:)

And to all of you who are reading this, if you do not know God as “Daddy God” then please ask the Lord to reveal this precious part of Himself to you. He is waiting, He is calling you to come to the table, to taste and see that He is good. He wants you to come and to rest in His beautiful love for you. He is with you.