This is from Jennifer Myers posted to Facebook March 20, 2017I drove past our old driveway today. A flood of emotions hit me instantly even before I got on that gravel driveway. I could almost feel the torn vinyl beneath my fingers from that old blue chevy truck, as my dad’s voice rang out, telling Josh and I to stop fighting. He had no idea I had unbuckled my seatbelt as we bounced down the driveway. And as he slammed on the brakes to reprimand us for clowning around, my head smashed against the windshield, cracking it instantly. He cried out my name and I heard the fear in it. I tried to reassure him right away, that I was fine, surprised myself that my forehead barely hurt at all. I don’t remember if I got a goose egg, but I will never forget how I felt, all groggy and confused when he woke me up in the middle of that night. He looked me in the eyes and told me he was just making sure I didn’t have a concussion. Then as he tiptoed out of my room, I went right back to sleep, feeling the same way I did everynight growing up with my dad: safe, loved, and protected.
Tears streamed down my face as I approached our big house. The one that we watched him build, that Josh, Jess, and I raced through with shouts of, “dad’s home” as we heard his car pull up every night as he arrived home from work and rushed into his arms. The yard looked smaller then I remembered, but I swear I could feel the grass between my toes, and smell that fresh cut lawn as he threw the football to us, catch double or nothing with real money. Somehow he always managed to make sure we didn’t end the game with the upwards of twenty bucks we had accumulated but we always had a dollar each, as we piled into the car to drive up to Waltz and pick out candy.
I could see that wrap around porch that mom had wanted so badly and I could hear his footsteps pounding on it as he raced around it, chasing us with his home-made rubber band gun that was 3 times longer then the ones he made us kids. I smiled through the tears as I remembered the shrieks of laughter bursting from our mouths as we got in hose fights, played kick ball, wrestled, played king of the mat, and so much more.
As I turned the car around at the end of the drive, my cries turned to sobs, the ache of missing him, cutting like a knife. I started thinking about how much and how well he loved me. If my earthly imperfect father could love me so well, oh how much, must my heavenly Father love His children? Indescribably, perfectly. Enough to give up His own Son for. And once again I felt comforted knowing that my dad is with his Father and he wants for nothing. He is whole and complete and loved beyond measure.