a father's heart

when i was 7 years old, like any second grade girl, i wanted a polly pocket so bad.  growing up, my family was never too big on toys.  there was the occasional hairless barbie from my older cousins and a few reject my little ponies - and it definitely didn't help that my older sister was not a fan of cute girly things.  so when it came to toys, i was on my own.

no one understood why i lovelovelove little hunks of plastic that come in every imaginable color.  why furry stuffed bears and bunnies and penguins were so precious to me.  why i'd lie in bed nights on end dreaming of having these things for myself.  and when i finally did, why i'd treasure them so much and believe that they were my very best friends.

no one except my dad.  leaving my mom and sister impatiently waiting at the front of toys r us, my dad bought me my very own polly pocket.  he was so happy to see me so happy and even played with me despite how is dad fingers completely dwarfed the 1/2 inch plastic figures. 

throughout the years, there were several more instances..  when the rest of my family was scratching their heads in disbelief, my dad was helping me set up my tomogotchi.  as my family was getting ready to leave the mall during closing time, my dad rushed in to grab the last furby baby just before the metal gates closed in.  even my collection of backstreet boys and nsync cds came from my dad. it's not like he ever spoiled me or caved in whenever something new and fuzzy caught my eye.  but i know that my dad would do anything within his power to see me happy.

far more reaching than toys, he never misses my calls or emails.  as busy as he is at work, he'd take the time to say hi or answer my silly questions like why some tires kick up more water than others when it rains.  if i were lost on the road he'd google map me back home.  if i were being bullied by other people he'd comfort me until my cellphone battery died.  and when my heart was broken he made sure i was plugged into the charger first and then listened to me cry for an hour.

in my life, there's nothing that comes close to the way my dad loves me and cares for me and is constantly thinking about and praying over me.  sometimes i get annoyed when he asks me what time i'll be at work and what time i'll be coming home.  or who i'm hanging out with.  or more specifically, who all those boys are in my pictures.  but i've realized that that is a father's heart.  and i'm so blessed to have a dad like mine.

having recently fallen in love with taiwan's newest pop star, jj lin, i emailed my dad today who's currently in taiwan with my mom to see if he could find me his cd.  within hours of sending the email, he responded saying he was somewhere called Far East 21 with my mom and to stay tuned.  shortly after he emailed me again to let me know they'd found it (hooray!) ..and that he doesn't approve of my taste in men, as he doesn't think the guy is too good looking.

sitting at my desk now after a day of ups and downs, i realize how silly i've been all this time.  today i thank god for graciously placing me in this amazing (like, you have no idea) family.  my brother and sister both spewed love on me at work when i was likely to break down at a moment's notice.  my parents, halfway around the world, set out on a mission for me hours before they climb back into a plane homeward bound.  and yet, here i am eating a cinnamon roll and being a poop.

but the word says:

if you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!

matthew 7:11

pwned again.  the bible calls my dad evil.  evil!?!?  are you freaking kidding me?  my dad can sing like my furby!  but it's true.  we are all subject to the sinful nature of man - even my dad.  and if even my dad can know me and love me and desire only the best for me, how much greater is the love of my heavenly father for me.  

no one except my Dad.  sometimes it's a little harder for me to get it.  i can call my dad right now and by the grace of verizon's international cell phone service, he will pick up and unfailingly call me by my nickname at $4 a minute.  on the other hand, when i pray to my heavenly father, i hear the resounding tick of my wall clock and the sound of my bunny burrowing through my couch.  it's difficult then to believe that he sees my mounting pile of tissue paper.  but though it's a struggle, i believe his word to be true and the presence of his spirit to be real.  the answer to my prayers were given through my family and his word and i'm kicking and fighting to accept it, but i think that's okay.

afterall, how much more...