There are myths and there are legends. Then there are forgotten footnotes. Life bares no great ballads and has no epic battles. It is instead about the moments we listen to voice of the mighty father. For the battles are won and lost in insignificance. Life is granted or taken away in the moments forgotten between memories.
She was born hearing the voice and heard it for as long as she could remember. She heard it as a child and on to a teenager. Her father smiled when she would recite the things she heard, “If only your mother was here to see you grow.” He heard them too.
She loved her father and, as an only child, he was her defender, her friend, and her confidant. He adored her and protected every day. She never doubted his affection. She never doubted his determination to teach her the way she should walk. When she packed her things and moved from home that first time, he gave her an extra tight squeeze and with a tender sadness filled with pride said, “Now it’s your turn to change the world.”
She remembered the first day alone. She remembered all the little things from him. She straightened her hair, something he had taught her. She made her bed, just as he showed her. She tied her shoes, just like the first time. As a little girl, they sat on the couch together and he tied and untied them a hundred times with her until she got it. She still tied them that way.
Her first day in school she met men of the world. She remembered his words warning her. She remembered his advice, “Wait until you find me. I have modeled it all for you.” She didn’t know what he meant, but she knew in her heart that she understand when the time was right.
Then one day, she met a man. After months of a budding friendship she observed without thinking, “You’re just like my father.” It suddenly sank in. She had found him. She knew what she was looking for. She knew what he meant.
The man looked on in awe and said, “it’s funny you should say that. You see, my mother spent years modeling for me what Godly mother should be. She cared and loved and nurtured and poured out all of herself. She submitted to her husband, my father, and acted with gracious authority bestowed by God. She was the image of what a wife, mother, and daughter should be. She was bold, determined, loyal, encouraging and never afraid to stand for what was right. And as I left home she whispered the words to me, ‘Be looking for me.'”
They married a short time after and they had their first daughter. The woman, turned mother, sat with her daughter and said, “God gave me a voice, and spoke each day. He gave me a father, like yours, to help you test and to weigh the things of heaven until you can find them for yourself. So that what I did, I grew up in truth. And you do the same.”
And the little daughter grew older and said one day, “Mommy, why do you tie my shoe just so, in that way?”
“Because, my beloved, my Father taught me the way. And I teach you, so you can show others the same”