my dad

A story came to mind as I was laying in bed.. mulling over the events of my day. A true story from my childhood. I was a little gal in the third grade, small, puny... I decided to go for the soccer team. I was the only girl on the team and my crush BJ Budolfson was on the team too. Every time we were on the field he would kick the ball straight into my stomach. On the ground trying not to cry I would stare at the sky, gasping for breath. It hurt so bad. I was always reprimanded to tighten my stomach to fight off the blows of the speeding ball. My parents never missed an event. My Dad would stand on the side lines watching making sure I got up off the ground. He would say Natalie I don't like it when you get hurt. But I insisted I wanted to play. And then we got to game day... I had no clue about soccer I started running the ball down the field and then I made my first goal.. Except it was the other team's goal. I looked around and saw the taunts and jeers embarrassed from head to toe I went to the sideline and resumed my position.

I remember the coming week one more practice and one more ball straight into my stomach. He saw how much pain I was in, he saw how determined I was to play. He finally said Natalie, you are not going to play anymore. I'm telling you you have to quit.

I look back on this memory... with a heart of thankfulness. Aren't Dad's wonderful? They protect us, they let us know when we've had enough when we can't make that decision for our selves. They see things we don't see. They have agenda's that don't align with ours and they are always for our betterment. They don't miss a beat... They are trustworthy.

I am thankful for my father on earth.. And I am thankful for my father in heaven.