when I think about a father

when I think about a father,

I think about a man

who, with the same hands, works tirelessly to provide for his family and lovingly bandages a skinned knee

who, with the same voice, screams I love yous and whispers gentle corrections

who, with the same feet, twirls his wife around the kitchen floor in a midnight slow dance and pulls his two year old in a red wagon teeming with a dozen of his closest stuffed friends

who, on the same knees, kneels before his Maker and teaches how to loop, swoop, and pull just so to tie itty bitty tennis shoes

who, with the same eyes, memorizes the beauty of a morning sunrise and admires a toddler's artwork as if it holds the value and prestige of the Mona Lisa

who, with the same arms, builds a fort to rival all forts and soothes his baby to sleep

who, with the same tongue, sings praises to his Savior and encourages his family to be dreamers of the biggest and wildest dreams

 

who, with the same nose, gives tender butterfly kisses and sniffs a steak to grilled perfection

 

who, with the same heart, loves fiercely and loves tenderly

 

when I think about a father, I think about this man

 I think about the man who steals my heart everyday

 I think about the man who is my little boy's biggest hero

 

when I think about a father, I am most grateful God gave our family you