Lincoln turned one last weekend. How weird is that? Aside from the fact that we managed to keep this guy alive for a full year (and counting), it doesn’t seem like a year has passed. At the same time, it really doesn’t seem like there was every a time before Lincoln was in our lives. He is a part of who we are, plain and simple.

People always say you learn more about God and about yourself when you become a parent, and not to be cliche, but it’s totally true.

I wish I could say I’ve loved everything I’ve learned about myself, but that’s simply not true. I can, however, confidently say that I love everything I’ve learned about God and who he is as a daddy.

Little Spirit

If you’ve spent any amount of time around Lincoln, you know he has just the sweetest little spirit about him. Always super genuine and happy, it takes a lot to ruffle his feathers. (Now I’m picturing Lincoln as a bird, and that’s weird.)

But there’s one thing that almost always hurts his little heart, and unfortunately it’s a dad fail. You see, if he sees me anywhere, he loves to crawl up to me and pull up to my knees. He does this with his mama too, so I’m not super special. He just wants to be loved by his parents.

But sometimes I’m just passing through the room on my way to somewhere else, and by the time he gets to where I was standing (head down in a charging crawl, of course) I’ve already passed through the room. On more than one occasion, I’ve looked back at him and what I see is heartbreaking.

He looks toward me with wide-eyed confusion. He sits up, having expended so much effort to come see me, and then I wasn’t even there. A thumb or a finger might go in his mouth as he tries to figure out what just happened and why.

I just know he’s thinking, “Dad, you’re the most important thing in the world to me right now. I dropped my favorite truck to come see you. Am I not the most important thing to you right now?” It’s written all over his little face. I know I’ve broken his little spirit.

You see, even at 1 year old, he has a fundamental desire that never leaves. He just wants to be important to his daddy.

I don’t know where you are. I don’t know what your childhood was like or what your family looks like, but there is one thing I do know: you have a daddy who loves you. You have a daddy who thinks you’re important. Important enough to die for.

It may be hard to see, but you have a daddy is never too busy for you. Never has too much on his plate to spend time with you. He’s never consumed with other vices or addictions. He’s never absent.

The promise is true: when you come crawling to your heavenly daddy, head down because you’re charging as fast as you can, when you look up he will be there.

“Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you.” - Isaiah 30:18

I’m not sure who needs to hear it today, but know this: you’re important to your dad.

A Word for Dads

For dads out there reading this, here’s the lesson: the kind of dad you are is the first glimpse your kids will have of their heavenly father. Read that again and soak it up a bit. No, I mean it, actually go back and read it. You can’t pull a fast one on me.

You get precious little time to be a reflection and a shadow of who The Father is to His kids. Are you making sure your kids know they’re important? What are you teaching you kids about who God is, in actions, not only in words.

For me, I’m going to stop and wait for my boy.