Happy Birthday to a Blessed Man
“But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is in him.” Jeremiah 17:7
After leaving church on Sunday, I headed straight to the store to buy the necessary ingredients for my yummy, after-church meal. Halfway there, smoke started pluming from under the hood of my car. Panic set in. Only a few weeks ago I had invested quite of bit of money to fix a problem with overheating, “NOW WHAT!?! “ I asked myself glaring at the car temperature gauge that assured me the car was nowhere near hot.
I pulled into a shopping center and got out of my car and into the chilly, windy parking lot. I popped the hood and was greeted with puffs of grey smoke and a crackling sound. Sigh. The smoke was coming from a different side than the last time it overheated and didn’t look like steam. The radiator water level could have used more, but it was okay. I checked my oil and it was low, which frustrated me as I had just had it changed a few weeks before…What do I do? Is there an oil problem that burnt out my engine? Is it safe to drive? How much is this going to cost to fix!?!?
I took shelter from the wind in the driver’s seat and called my parent’s cell phone hoping they’d answer. My parents are three hours behind me, so they would be at Sunday School at that time and wasn’t sure if they’d pick up. Thankfully, mama’s sweet voice answered on the other end. After venting to her for a bit, she asked the question, “Do you want to talk to daddy?”
“Yes,” I answered, with a little relief entering my heart as I did.
The answer is always, yes, when mama asks that question. Talking to daddy is always filled with tidbits of news everyone else forgets to tell me: Updates on how my dog is behaving, what the neighbors are up to, what he cooked last time they visited my grandparents and which of my little cousins has taken a liking to him. And then there are times like this, when only daddy can help.
So with my papa giving me instructions, we figured out the car had a major oil leak and its drippings were most likely what was causing the smoke and crackling. After telling me to let it cool down and add more oil and radiator fluid he said, “Take it back to the guy, they probably messed something up when they replaced the oil sensor,” (Turns out that’s pretty much what happened).
Then, daddy began to pray in Spanish. He asked for God’s protection and mercy and wisdom. And I began to cry softly. I love when my papa prays in Spanish. It just flows out of him so honestly and beautifully. His heart to protect and provide for me was so evident in his prayer, and yet his dependence on God to do that for him was even more evident. He could tell, I was crying a little, so he asked, “Are you okay, mija?”
“MmmHmmm,” I sniffled.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he assured me and then asked me to keep him posted on the situation.
I didn’t have time to tell him that the tears streaming down my face were not for fear or panic as before, but it was because of how loved and cared for I felt. How grateful I was in that moment, not only to have a father who knows about cars and is there for me, but to have a father who in his weakness (being 3,000 miles away etc.) showed a heart that was fully reliant on God and could only point me to a dependence on Him too.
I share this story as a snapshot into the man I am blessed to call my daddy.
From my days as a toddler ‘til now he continues to teach me to trust in the Lord and do good. So, happy Birthday, Daddy! Thanks for teaching me so many things and everything you do for us, but more than anything thank you for teaching me to trust my Heavenly Father. I am so glad that the Lord gifted you to the world years ago on this very day. You are one of my greatest treasures. Te quiero mucho, papi!
With all my heart,
~ Ivette
After leaving church on Sunday, I headed straight to the store to buy the necessary ingredients for my yummy, after-church meal. Halfway there, smoke started pluming from under the hood of my car. Panic set in. Only a few weeks ago I had invested quite of bit of money to fix a problem with overheating, “NOW WHAT!?! “ I asked myself glaring at the car temperature gauge that assured me the car was nowhere near hot.
I pulled into a shopping center and got out of my car and into the chilly, windy parking lot. I popped the hood and was greeted with puffs of grey smoke and a crackling sound. Sigh. The smoke was coming from a different side than the last time it overheated and didn’t look like steam. The radiator water level could have used more, but it was okay. I checked my oil and it was low, which frustrated me as I had just had it changed a few weeks before…What do I do? Is there an oil problem that burnt out my engine? Is it safe to drive? How much is this going to cost to fix!?!?
I took shelter from the wind in the driver’s seat and called my parent’s cell phone hoping they’d answer. My parents are three hours behind me, so they would be at Sunday School at that time and wasn’t sure if they’d pick up. Thankfully, mama’s sweet voice answered on the other end. After venting to her for a bit, she asked the question, “Do you want to talk to daddy?”
“Yes,” I answered, with a little relief entering my heart as I did.
The answer is always, yes, when mama asks that question. Talking to daddy is always filled with tidbits of news everyone else forgets to tell me: Updates on how my dog is behaving, what the neighbors are up to, what he cooked last time they visited my grandparents and which of my little cousins has taken a liking to him. And then there are times like this, when only daddy can help.
So with my papa giving me instructions, we figured out the car had a major oil leak and its drippings were most likely what was causing the smoke and crackling. After telling me to let it cool down and add more oil and radiator fluid he said, “Take it back to the guy, they probably messed something up when they replaced the oil sensor,” (Turns out that’s pretty much what happened).
Then, daddy began to pray in Spanish. He asked for God’s protection and mercy and wisdom. And I began to cry softly. I love when my papa prays in Spanish. It just flows out of him so honestly and beautifully. His heart to protect and provide for me was so evident in his prayer, and yet his dependence on God to do that for him was even more evident. He could tell, I was crying a little, so he asked, “Are you okay, mija?”
“MmmHmmm,” I sniffled.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he assured me and then asked me to keep him posted on the situation.
I didn’t have time to tell him that the tears streaming down my face were not for fear or panic as before, but it was because of how loved and cared for I felt. How grateful I was in that moment, not only to have a father who knows about cars and is there for me, but to have a father who in his weakness (being 3,000 miles away etc.) showed a heart that was fully reliant on God and could only point me to a dependence on Him too.
I share this story as a snapshot into the man I am blessed to call my daddy.
From my days as a toddler ‘til now he continues to teach me to trust in the Lord and do good. So, happy Birthday, Daddy! Thanks for teaching me so many things and everything you do for us, but more than anything thank you for teaching me to trust my Heavenly Father. I am so glad that the Lord gifted you to the world years ago on this very day. You are one of my greatest treasures. Te quiero mucho, papi!
With all my heart,
~ Ivette