That commercial always made me cry because that big, tough-guy daddy was in his own way, and not necessarily with words, telling his daughter that he loved her.
And because it made me think of my own big, tough-guy daddy.
When I was in college he used to obsess about how my little Honda was running because of the many, many miles between our house and Abilene. By asking about my car and checking on it regularly he was, by proxy, checking on me and showing his love and concern for my little Honda's precious cargo. He would quiz me occasionally to see if I knew how to change a flat tire and always waited anxiously by the phone to know I had made the drive safely back to Abilene after a visit home.
One time, either during my freshman or sophomore year, my dad and step mom Ruby came to visit, bearing a gift that daddy was beside himself with glee to bestow upon me. He had told me he had something for me and me, being the girly girl I am, had spent a fair amount of time daydreaming about the possibility of this gift being a cute new coat or boots or something.
Imagine my surprise when I opened up a box containing a battery operated emergency air pump, complete with its very own light just in case I was ever stranded by a flat tire on the side of the road in the dark.
I tried to swallow my initial disappointment that this air pump was not, in fact, something cute to wear and was, in fact, an air pump and show my appreciation.
But you know what? Over time I realized that asking about my car, making sure I was equipped to travel safely (a dependable Honda, a cell phone that came in its very own bag and don't forget, the emergency air pump) was his way of telling me he loved me and worried about me.
I've written a little bit about my daddy before (and I would be beyond tickled pink if you'd take a minute to click over and read it) because in case you didn't know, he's a pretty special guy. Lately though he's had a bit of a blow in regard to his health and has had to make some tough decisions. I haven't mentioned all of this before now because, well, I like to live in denial about certain things, truth be told I thrive there.
My big, tough-guy daddy is undergoing surgery today to remove several cancerous tumors in his abdomen and on his liver. If you pray, I would certainly appreciate you lifting him up in prayer today and in the upcoming days as he recovers. As you've probably guessed my manly-man daddy is a man of few words. He's good at telling you the whats, the whens and the wheres but otherwise keeps his deeper feelings to himself. But I think he's kind of scared.
And I am too.
"And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up." James 5:15
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."
Philippians 4:6
"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."
Romans 12:12






If someone had told me three weeks ago that I would actually crave a ginormous salad overflowing with all kinds of healthy tidbits and consider eating out at Salad Express a treat, I would have called that someone CUH-ray-zee.


If someone had told me that said pointy-toed boots fit like a glove, instantly make me feel sassy and equally sad to take them off I would have said no way, Jose.








Annelise was a little hesitant this time for some reason (it's not like she's never held a small, flaming firework in her little hand before) and we practically had to force her to hold one.

