Father Hearts

So, today on the 4-5 hour drive back from the beach with my family, aside from listening to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (only 2 1/2 chapters left!), I was doing quite a bit of reflecting. If you know me well, you know I am prone to do this on long trips.

First, I was thinking about my calling, and how I wish I could be more involved from a distance. It's frustrating to not know what's going on when I feel like it's so important.

Second, it being Father's Day, I was thinking about the dads in my life - my own, my grandfathers, my uncles, my cousins, and even other people's dads that I admire. I'm quite grateful for these men in my life - they all have their own quiet strength, and are wonderful examples in my life.

Third, I thought about some of the really great friends I've had in my life. I'm hitting that third growing-pains-wave in my life when it seems like all my friends are moving on - getting married, having babies, going on missions, getting master's degrees or starting them. In the past these phases have generally ripped me to shreds for a while, and I won't lie, this time isn't exactly cake, but, I feel like, in this case third time's the charm and I'm more equipped to handle the change, and ready for some of my own. I have a job that, in spite of the gut-wrenching parts, I love, an apartment I enjoy and friends I adore. I finally moved away from where I was comfortable, and quickly found it is home - something I never thought I'd do, and yet, a sign that I'm moving on and growing up.

As I was thinking about all of this, I thought about all of the friends that have gotten me to this point, and especially, it being Father's Day, the male friends I've had who each have had what I like to call "Father hearts", and have helped me get to this point. They are the ones who tell it like it is, but love me for who I am, and thus teach me to be happy in my own skin. The ones who protect and defend me. The ones who drop by, call, text, e-mail, or even facebook me, just to say "hi" and that they're thinking about me. The ones who know who they are and who I am and act accordingly. The ones who, when I seem to forget, remind me of my value - sometimes verbally, but more often by quiet acts of kindness. The ones who provide the protective arms of comfort when the rains start pouring down, and provide the laughter to drive the clouds away. The ones who are gentlemen in word and deed, not because they are trying to impress me or other women, but because they respect us, teaching me to expect chivalry from men in general.

These are men with father hearts. I have been blessed to have many such men in my life, for which I am eternally grateful.