My Father’s Daughter

I am my father’s daughter.

As I walked the forest last night hiding plastic Easter eggs, I realized that I was smiling as I worked, giddy with anticipation. As I looked for perfect little hiding spots, I remembered all of the Easters spent with my dad, the egg hunt master of ceremonies, his excitement palpable.  Aloud, with a laugh bubbling on my lips, I said, “I am my father‘s daughter.”

This morning as I await the children waking and beginning this sacred day, I again am reminded that I am my father’s daughter.  I am a daughter of two fathers: one earthly, one heavenly. 

I am like my earthly father in countless ways from our large noses, to our insatiable need to ask questions and know other’s experiences, to our desire for familial and social peace which rules our conduct and conversations, and on and on I could go.  I delight in our similarities because I love him and want to emulate him.


And my heavenly father? Am I like him?  Do I treat others as He would?  Do I see others as He would?  Do I care for my environment like He would?  Do I serve as He would?  Do I think like He does?  Do I love like He does?  

How I pray so! 

I love Him and want to emulate Him.  He is perfect love and perfect peace; a sure foundation.  My earthly father and I will spend a lifetime trying to be like Him. Not because it is achievable, for it isn’t, but because we love Him, we want to be like Him, and through Him our lives may be a blessing to others. 

My heart and my soul rejoice this morning, basking in the sacrificial love of my Heavenly Father.  May we never stop emulating Him and spreading His endless love far and wide. 

He is Risen. ✝️  Shalom ❤️

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