Marked by His Love for Me

Growing up (and honestly even still) there were things about my dad that I questioned.  We often questioned his choice of clothing (the 90’s was NOT a good decade for his wardrobe), we still question his eating habits (I just can’t fall in love with taco meat on oatmeal), and we girls still sometimes question his idea that ANYTHING could be recycled and used over and over again.  However, there was one thing that we NEVER questioned- and that was his love for us. 

My dad has farmed full-time for his entire life, as his dad did as well.  Agriculture is an industry that I am fiercely loyal to, and SO incredibly thankful for my roots in it.  However, it is also an industry where for many years people just assumed that any farmer who was worth anything would want SONS to work with and someday take over the business.  I truly can’t tell you how many times I heard people say to my dad (with sympathy) phrases like “Oh… no boys” or “Too bad you don’t have any boys to help you.”  It could be a little disheartening to hear people talk about you like you weren’t worth as much because you were a girl- but my dad was ALWAYS so quick to speak up and defend his girls.  He was quick to tell people that he wouldn’t trade us and that he would trust us with anything that a boy could have done.  Never once did he let people talk down to us because we were girls, and we always knew our worth in his eyes.  And he often added humor to his “defense speech” by telling people that his high school dream was to “ride around with a truck full of beautiful women, and I now get to do that all the time.”  It left people chuckling, but he was always very clear that he meant what he said about how much he valued his daughters.

If you know my sisters and I personally, and know our personalities, you might find this surprising, but… contrary to popular belief, I honestly am the daughter who gave our father the most gray hairs- literally.  The summer of 1996 I was a twelve year old girl, and as most twelve year old girls, I struggled with self-confidence.  The night of our 4-H beef show was one of those especially difficult nights.  My show heifer had been a little hard to deal with, and I was struggling a LOT with finding the confidence to continue with my show commitments that evening.  My dad was a firm believer that we did not give up and we did not quit.  In trying to help bring me around he starting joking with me about the cattle clippers and got me teasing him about giving him a haircut of my choice.  That led to him making a deal with me that if I could pull myself together and go be the best me he knew I could be, then after the evening’s show was finished, I could give him any haircut of my choosing.  I didn’t back down from a deal with my dad, so I managed to start pulling myself together.  I went back into the show ring that evening to compete in showmanship.  That is the class where the judging is not about the animal, but the judge is actually judging the showman’s knowledge, presence, and ability to present the animal at it’s best.  Not only did I pull myself together enough to compete that evening, I managed to win showmanship.

 In keeping his part of the deal, my dad cheerfully sat himself down on a feed bucket in the cattle barn that evening in front of 50 or so onlookers as I gave him a haircut of my choosing.  It was reverse mohawk and I absolutely peeled him as close as possible down the middle of his scalp.  We had a great laugh about it that night, and it was a great lesson in what dad was willing to go through to see us do our best.  The next day he was scheduled to grill steaks for the Cattlemen’s food stand which he did while proudly wearing a t-shirt that said “My Daughter Did This.”  Of course he didn’t wear a hat because it would have covered his great “new do” but he also didn’t think to wear sunscreen on his peeled scalp and ended the day with a pretty intense sunburn down the middle of his head.

 It was a haircut we thought would just be good for some laughs for a few weeks and a fun memory.  But, in just a couple weeks, as his hair began growing back in… it became very obvious that there were going to be more lasting effects of this haircut.  The hair that was growing back, right down the center of my dad’s dark brown, was silvery white.  Apparently, something about the sunburn had affected his hair follicles and he was permanently marked with a “skunk stripe” right down the middle of his head.  And still to this day, over 20 years later, he bears that mark.  As the rest of his hair has slowly begun to gray, it isn’t QUITE as noticeable now as it was for many years, but still pretty apparent if you know what to look for.  And he doesn’t let me forget it.  Just a few weeks ago he had a fresh haircut for my sister’s wedding and walked into the living room where I was sitting, bent over, and pointed to show me his head.  We didn’t have to say a word to each other, we both just smiled and laughed.  He will always bear my marks. 

As I think about how incredibly thankful I am for my dad, I think about how much I learned about my heavenly Father through the lessons he showed us.  See, I also have a Father who wants me to always remember my worth to Him.  Over and over in His Word he reminds me that I am loved, and valued, and cherished, and known by Him.  And He is a Father who was willing to bear my marks- they are in his hands, and feet, and side because He was the ultimate example of sacrificial love for His children. 

Both my fathers are marked by their love for me.  I am richly blessed.

“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!...” 1 John 3:1