Elijah's normal, not ours

My Dad

I'm sitting here tonight thinking about my dad, tomorrow he will retire from his hearts work. He is a pastor, retired or not he will always be one. He's heart was always for intercity people, those that lived on the streets, those who seemed the furthest down.

I will remember the love of my father always, the feeling of him holding me tight asking me if I would always be his Katy Babe. I would sit in his lap, and smile saying right after that. I will never leave you daddy, I will always be your Katy Babe.

I remember the feeling of being safe, that there was nothing in the world that can harm me as long as my dad was there. The nights of laying in bed and hearing my dad next door snoring, it was loud but I always knew my dad was there. The nights I was afraid or lonely and I would snuggle at the foot of my dads bed on the floor just so I could feel the comfort of his breathing.

The nights he would lock the house up tight, and knowing I was still awake would turn out the lights and sneak in the dark, with his deep laugh knowing he was there and I couldn't see him. I would run around the house giggling as he chased me laughing until he grabbed me, hugged me and said good night. I knew he was there my safe place, my dad's lap snuggled in his arms.

I remember going to work with my dad, riding next to him on his tractor showing me how it all worked. Sitting me on his lap and letting me drive the tractor around. Watching him in his office putting together sermons, watching my dad practice his sermons, Watching my dad drive a church bus around picking kids up for sunday school. Watching my dad laugh as he swung me around in the ski boat trying to make me fall. Laughing as I took a knee board and tried so hard to turn it into a surf board. Watching my dad on the streets of Riverside, soul winning the lost on the streets, watching my dad walk the streets of L.A. where he grew up saving men from the life of sin. Watching him take these men under his arms and teach them about christ. Not knowing but showing me what a heart for Christ was all about.

I remember the first date, the note I wrote asking if I could go on a date at 15 because I was just so mature and believed I should be able to go. My dad took that first step of letting go of my hand at that moment, knowing the days of sitting on his lap would soon be over.

The day I brought my then new boyfriend home from college, seeing his face when he saw the mohawk and out front personality. So much like my father, I think he knew that Keith would be the one at that moment.

The day he gave me away, His arm around me as he walked me down the isle. Walking me to someone that had stolen his Katy Babes heart, his little girl. Proudly handing me over and allowing me to become the women I am today.

I remember when my son Josiah died, my dad showed up with no words to say but his hands and arms said everything. His arms telling me it will be ok, His arms telling me time will heal the pain. He's arms telling me all was ok I was safe. Allowing me to cry in his arms, while I grieved for my baby. My dad understood the loss I was feeling, lossing a baby of his own and a son at the age of 21. My dad knew words would not heal, but a quiet gentle touch would.

Again a few years ago when I felt my whole world was crumbling, I was grasping for answers and hurting deeply from the loss of a world that I thought was safe. Sitting in my house alone, afraid with 3 kids and husband deployed. I remember crying over the phone to my dad that I just need to be held again by him. And my dad in no deep words, in tears saying I am always here Katy Babe.

My dad will always hold a special place in my heart, I will always be his Katy Babe no matter how old I get. I may not be able to sit in his lap any longer, but I will always know when everything is crumbling and my world is falling apart my dad will always be there to pick me up and dust me off and snuggle me in his arms so I again can feel safe. I love you dad Always and Forever.. your Katy babe.

daddys Hands

I remember Daddy´s hands, folded silently in prayer.And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare.You could read quite a story, in the callouses and lines.Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.I remember Daddy´s hands, how they held my Mama tight,And patted my back, for something done right.There are things that I´ve forgotten, that I loved about the man,But I´ll always remember the love in Daddy´s hands.Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentleBut I´ve come to understand.There was always love in Daddy´s hands.I remember Daddy´s hands, working 'til they bled.Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed.If I could do things over, I´d live my life again.And never take for granted the love in Daddy´s hands.