Daddies

I woke to the black morning at 6 am.

My night strange without mr. incredible beside me. Pulling me close in after the first snooze button pushed.

No time to waste, I had 3 kids to get up and ready for an hour long drive to Woolaroc

Race Day. My 6th race this year and dubbed a "fun run". An 8k with a friend I don't get to see often.

A light carb for breakfast at my parents Tulsa home, still no sight of dawn. Awaken the siblings, who were up far past time the night before giggling on the couches at Granny's house. I resisted disciplining them- they weren't keeping me up and laughing with one's siblings is a gift from God. One day they will be separated and will reminisce simpler days of play.

My mother comes in, dressed and ready for a day of waiting.

"Dad is coming with us."

My parents have not been with me at a race. They cheer from the other side of a computer. But this... my father's presence was a gift.

My heart engaged, he want's to come?

Had I forgotten the fact that I have called my dad every time I have raced? And why do I report the numbers? Funny the things we do from a heart in need.

The drive was scenic and we welcomed the sun just south of Barnsdall, OK.

The terrain was hilly and I began to picture the racing course. I began to fear the journey and what it may require. But not for long, I was too much enjoying the company of those I hold dear. For the day was pleasant and air thin and we had been given moments of enjoyment.

I was tagged and chipped and barely had time to stretch between the conversations and pictures.

My parents and their camera, friends and foes :)

The race began and to no distress I was there for the view not the prize. 250 runners began and our times began as we crossed the starting line- eyes on my father who'd come to cheer me on.

He had a hard time seeing me in the crowd. But he was there, I saw him.

The course was beautiful but as with all beauty there came a price- the hills were long and constant.

The volunteers gave us times and the animals just stares.

The last 1k was the hardest. Uphill all the way to the finish, it was difficult to push through. And my eyes scanned the crowd,  if I could see their faces it would be enough. Enough to finish strong. And after a frantic search of 10 seconds I saw my family and they saw me. They were waiting on me. Glad their wait was over.

It always gets me how they miss me and want to talk immediately when I can barely breathe. Remember this?

But there are no words to describe the feeling when I see this picture....

And I don't think I need to communicate any to you.

We read to know we are not alone.

Will you ever outgrow wanting your father to cheer you on? To call you beautiful and delight in your presence? To offer an, "I love you".

He has not been perfect and neither have I. Mercy is a fine gift.

As the years come quicker we must make the most of the time we are given.

But I can not deny the need for my father's presence.

If we weren't so desperate for our fathers there would be no movies like Courageous. 

But there is and the wounds are deep. We are not left without hope. For our God is a God to the fatherless. Psalm 68:5

THE FATHER is speaking and many are hearing. Fathers love and follow the Lord, then you'll be able to love your children as they need. Not only is he Father he is Wonderful Counselor. He will lead those who are seeking and he is wisdom to those who ask for it.

Running with a lighter step,
Lori