No one can be all things to all people.
But to one little girl, a daddy can be everything.
I’ve heard it said that a little girl’s first impressions of her Heavenly Father are shaped by her earthly one.
Those are some big shoes to fill. But Daddy, she needs you.
She needs you to show up, just like those daddies last night, who traded their wrenches and workboots for pressed pants and neckties. They showed up. And more than anything, that’s what those girls wanted: For you to show up.
Twelve daddies showed up for twelve daughters. Those girls are in that awkward in-between place — just past little, but not quite yet big. It’s somewhere between Keds and high heels. It’s somewhere between flannel and sequins. It’s in that place where gangly and graceful collide.
It that delicate place between Daddy Date night and the high school prom.
And it’s right now. It’s this moment.
The girls wore chiffon and giddiness. The daddies wore sport-coats … and maybe a touch of nervousness? Some of your girls arrived while clinging to your arms; others ran six steps ahead. But they all think the world of you, you know. They need you to show up, Daddy.
And I watched you. You were available and dependable — with just the right amount of goofy. You did the Chicken Dance — all 12 of you — and you went under the limbo stick.
Yeah, I know. All earthly fathers mess up. And maybe you think it’s too late to be her hero.
But she still believes in you. She needs you to walk next to her. She still wants to bury her hand in yours. She thinks you’re funny and charming and the safest place in all the world.
There is only one you, Daddy.
And trust me: She still thinks the best seat in the house — hands down — is right next to you.
Photos from Daddy Date Night last night, a fitting close for a year with the local Daughters of the King club.