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I'm turning 30! Dad, I need you.





  As I sit here by myself, with the electric fireplace glowing in the background, I think, “I can’t believe I’m going to be thirty next month.”  March 16th to be exact.  I’m going to be a thirty year old woman like the woman acting in the Hallmark movie I’m watching.  A new adventure awaits me as I stand atop the thirty year old mountain.  As I overlook the adventurous summit, there is a pinnacle peak missing, my dad.  I will be traveling emerald roads and picking fresh flowers without his guidance.  What would he think of me now?  Would he be proud of the woman I’m becoming?  What godly words would he have spoken at this time in my life?

My twenties stampeded by like a band of Mustangs over the plains of Montana.  I remember turning twenty-one two seconds ago and taking a picture with my dad.  Snap!  Click!  Memory day branded.  That was the last year I would see my dad in pictures.  Dad, you’re supposed to be here to help me through life.  I need you.  When my dad was sick with Cancer, he fluffed up this pillow of comfort, “I’m your earthly dad, but God is your Heavenly Father.”  So, even though, my dad isn’t imprinted in photos anymore, he’s imprinted in my heart.  My heavenly Father will never leave or forsake me.  He is right by my voided side.

You can tell my dad was a giant encourager, as big as the Red Woods.  I’m scared about turning thirty.  I don’t feel old, but the number feels like a hurdle.  I know he’d probably say something like, “Ah! You’re beautiful and you’re still a youngin’!”  He was born and raised in Louisiana.  He was a Southern man that used Southern words.  I’m sure he’d also say, “You’re only as old as you feel.”  He always knew what to say to make you feel better.  Just at the right glimmering moment, a Bible verse would be recited by my dad.  It would light on your heart like a Monarch butterfly.  Your heart would suddenly feel at peace and your mind floating on a pristine lake.  Thank you, Dad, even though, you’re not here.  You left a legacy of strength and I will strap that strength to my hiking backpack. 

As I walk down God’s path, what will be behind the Oak tree?  What will I discover beyond the glistening river?  We plan our ways, but God directs our steps.  As I step by the “Next Chapter River”, it reflects only my face and not my dad’s.  I have to keep “going boldly”, as my dad would say.  I was blessed to have him grace my life for 21 years.  He molded me into the woman I am today.  My faith in God will keep my steps steady as I stroll over the “Thirties Bridge”.  He’d say, “Go, girl, go!”  Well, here I go, without you.  Every milestone, I will miss my dad.  This is just one of many.  So, brazenly I go, without my dad’s hand to hold mine.  God is my true Father and I have to trust Him.            

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