 On Monday January 21, 2013 we watched the second official
Inauguration of the 44 President
of The United States of America “President Barak H. Obama”. The
monumental event was viewed by millions around the world as all eyes
were upon America’s 1 family. As the comments swirled around the difference
in demeanor of our second term president from the first time around and the
classic style of our 1st Lady Michelle and her new bangs to
whose designer gown she would choose. I watched the
interaction between our President and his daughters Sasha & Malia, and how
we've watched them grow over the last four years. The one thing that hadn’t changed is that they are
still “Daddy’s” little girls. Some have never known what it is like to have a good relationship
with their earthly father. I've been blessed to have had such a
one. My dad (Alfred M. Barnes) whom I affectionately called “Daddy”
referred to my younger sister, brother and me as “Kid” when talking with
us. Anytime he answered a question or expounded on a subject (In a Bill
Cosby type of way) he’d always start with “Kid…” We knew we were in for a
long ride and there would be no short version (Ergo, my passion for writing and
why it’s by the grace of God to do so in 1000 words or less). My dad always had a word of wisdom to impart to us: “It’s
not what people do, but how you respond”, “Tomorrow is not promised: You
live for today, learn from yesterday and hope for tomorrow”, “Our primary
purpose in life is to please God”, “I may not be the richest man but the most
valuable thing I can ever give you is what I’m telling you now”. That last
quote couldn't have been truer as I live by words spoken by my dad each day.
And he balanced those
nuggets of wisdom with playful jokes and pranks, always surprising us with
unexpected laughs that still make me chuckle when I think about them. But
when I needed real answers and real talk, he was all ears and I never felt as
if any question was too dumb or any subject off-limits. I could
always talk to “Daddy”. Even after I was grown,
married and with children of my own, I found a place of safety and unbiased
advice when daddy told me “Kid, whatever you do, stand by your husband.
Together, there is nothing you won’t be able to face”. Those were some of
the last words my dad spoke to me about a month before he passed away.
And those words (along with the Logos & Rhema) have kept me through
the thick and the thin times of my marriage. As an adult, when the longing
to be heard as only a daddy can hear, I found it in my dad. The place I
could (relatively) climb up into his lap, lay my head on his shoulder and pour
out to him my heart. And although I’d grown up, have children calling me
“Mommy’ and to some may be a strong, able and assertive woman, somewhere within
was still a little girl. She is a little girl who sometimes can
be unsure of herself and needs to know that she is valued. Who
at any given moment, though smiling and receiving accolades and yes even criticisms
of others, can become weary and sometimes need to take a “stay-cation”
just to talk to Daddy. My daddy passed away years ago, and there have been times in my
life when I longed to hear his voice once again. A few years ago, I experienced such a
time. Feeling frustrated and not being where I felt I needed to be,
I questioned my Abba Father (Daddy) about it. As I was moving
items off my dresser as I’d done many times before to dust, a picture became a
message. It was a picture of me at four years old. Only days before,
my husband had said “I don’t know what it is, but something happens to you, and
you become like...I don’t know (and he pointed to the picture) that little
girl”
It brought to mind an
incident that occurred when I was that age: My parents lived in the
downstairs apt of my dad’s aunt and uncles home. I’d come upstairs and my
aunt was about to pour me a glass of milk when she received a telephone
call. I (wanting to be a big girl and help her out) went into the
refrigerator and took out the glass bottle of milk. Before I could get it
out, (struggling to grasp the slippery bottle with my toddler hands) lost the
battle and it fell to the floor and shattered. Milk & glass went
everywhere. My aunt (not thinking and still on the phone) turned around
at the sound of the shattered glass and slapped my face. I ran downstairs
and (with the hand print still on my face), my mom and aunt had some not so
pleasant words. That was then. Now, in my spirit I heard:
“From that moment until now, you have viewed correction as punishment and this
is not always the case. The feeling you get when corrected is the same as
you felt then. You are not what you did and you will make mistakes, but
don’t be afraid to try. I have never stopped seeing you as “That little
Girl”. I realized at that moment, that an incident I hadn’t thought of in
years had robbed me of my youth, my freedom and my growth. That the
Father corrects those he loves and he loves his little girls. And though I've grown into adulthood, have had some peaks and gone through some
valleys, the one thing that has never changed is that I am still my “Daddy’s
little Girl! |
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