Dad

I didn't realize how many pictures I had taken of them. Dozens and dozens of photographs of my husband with our two daughters. At the park, pushing them on a swing. At the pool, splashing and being silly. Applying sunscreen. Applying Bandages. Applying Love. Feeding them. Combing their hair. Letting them comb his hair. Cutting their birthday cake. Sitting with them during their first haircut. Reading books. Riding roller coasters. Riding bikes. Changing diapers. Giving baths. Wiping tears.  

It seems every memory involves him. Even the ones we don't have pictures of. Like the night he spent cleaning up vomit all over our bathroom walls. Or the night he ran to the pharmacy for medicine at 1am. Or the night that he showed his superhero powers by killing a bat in our house at 3am. He fought for his kids and protected them, even as they slept, unaware of the danger.

In it all, I can’t help but think of how close our Heavenly Father is in our lives. I bet if we were able to collect photographs from throughout our life, we would find that He would be in every picture, in every moment. From conception to death, we would see His Hand, His Face. We would find Him rejoicing with us. Crying with us. Wiping our tears. We would see how He picked us up when we fell and held us close to Himself. We would see Him laughing with us. Dancing with us. Singing over us in pure delight. And we would see Him there in every restless night. Cleaning up our vomit. Healing our wounds. And fighting our 'bats', even as we slept. Our Heavenly Father was here. Our Heavenly Father will always be there. He is our Hero. He is our Dad.