Happy Birthday to You

Even though we are not together today, my family is celebrating the birthday of my father.  I'm looking forward to celebrating with him in person this weekend.  There are a lot of things I could write about my dad, but what stands out the most, especially during the Christmas season, is his romance.  (I'm sure my brothers are laughing now.)  But it is true.  How is he romantic you might ask?  Let me explain.  

I use romance in a broad sense.  I use it in the sense of the fourth definition for the word  found in my dictionary:  "a quality suggestive of the adventure and idealized exploits found in such tales."  What kind of tales?  "Any long, fictitious tale of heroes and extraordinary or mysterious events."  Perhaps you could say he has "an inclination toward the romantic or adventurous."  

I'm not sure if my dad would describe himself in these ways, but this is the kind of life he has given to his children, and we are so grateful.  My father is one of the hardest working people I know, up early to run, to read, and pray.  Home late after visitation and church meetings.  Up all night on Saturday nights in preparation for Sundays.  But just as he is a hard worker, he is also really good about taking time for adventures.  A bike ride around town, a road trip across the United States, hiking, tubing, camping, jumping in the car to catch a sunset view from a mountaintop, waterfalls, a trip to the grocery store on foot in an ice storm, checking the kids out of school to drive to the mountains on a perfect fall day.  That's the kind of life we've had, and maybe those qualities are some of the ways I bear his imprint on my life.  Work hard, and play hard.  Make the simple pleasures an adventure.  

My father is also a lavish giver.  He loves Christmas, and he loves to make it magical for us.  Every year my brothers and I would awaken each other anywhere from midnight to 3 a.m. on Christmas Eve to creep into the living room and find what Santa had left for us.  I never remember having a discussion about not believing in Santa anymore.  My dad has never let the magic end.  We still wake one another up in the night to peek at our treasures by the light of the tree.  

Mom and Dad always stayed up late on Christmas Eve

to put out Santa's gifts and give gifts to each other.

Christmas is filled with memories for me made by my father:  trips to the pig farm for fresh sausage to make his Christmas morning breakfast casserole, keeping the VCR running with repeated showings of It's a Wonderful Life, and White Christmas, singing Away in a Manger a la Andy Griffith, and not forgetting the greatest gift of all LMCO.  Not "Lynn Murphy's Coming 'Ome" as I thought my freshman year of college, but the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering.   My dad has given so generously to us and taught us to give generously of our time and money as well.  Tonight members of his church gathered to celebrate my dad's birthday and give to Lottie Moon so that the world can hear the gospel, something that has always been special to my dad's heart.  

I'm so glad I get to be his girl and so thankful for all the ways he has demonstrated the Father's love for us with such lavishness.  Happy birthday to you, Dad!  You are the best.