He loves me...he really loves me

During my parent's recent move I came across this in my Dad's toolchest...

Pictures...

A black and white picture that he had printed off from his computer on paper of my sister and I and our spouses celebrating Father's Day with him years ago...

...and an old picture of my sister and I when we were little riding with him on his tractor. 

The tears began to flow as I stood looking at these two pictures he had chosen.  I wondered how long they had been there...I wondered why had he not asked me for a true color print of the Father's Day one that was taken with my camera...I wondered why they were here in his toolchest...why had he chosen pictures of my sister and I and not the grandkids.  Then it hit me...it is simply because he loves me--my dad must really love me. 

A couple of months ago when he took my car into his mechanic and brought it home washed and vacuumed--he did it because he loves me.  The times he's picked up things for me in his truck from Home Depot and helped me with yardwork and things around the house--he did it because he loves me.  The times he's built wood shelves and stools for me--he did it because he loves me.  The many times that he and Granna have kept my kids--that too was done out of love for me and not just for the sake of his love for his grandkids.  The times when I would come home from college and he would wash my car, change the oil, fill up my gas tank, and leave money in the console for me--all done with love for me.  The time when I was in a car accident as a teenager and he took me back to the site of the accident to convince me that it wasn't my fault--that too was love.  The time when I had surgery as a child and he whispered in my ear, "Just squeeze my hand as hard as you can" to distract me from the pain as the nurses were pulling out the tubes--that was his subtle love showing up again.  Building my sister and I a playhouse as a child, renovating our house to provide my sister and I with new rooms, taking us to the beach yearly and going for early morning runs with me and playing volleyball until sunset, letting us ride the tractor and plant the garden with him rather than him just getting it done in a more time efficient manner by himself...why hadn't it really sunk in until now...I have a father who loves me...he really loves me.

Seeing these pictures in my dad's toolchest brought to mind a quote by Max Lucado:

"If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it. If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it. He sends you flowers every spring and a sunrise every morning... Face it, friend. He is crazy about you!" 

Just as ignorant as I have been of my earthly father's love for me, how much more so have I been of my Heavenly Father's lavish acts of love. 

The song "Captured" says it this way:  

I heard your echo in the canyon

upon the timberline

You said these mountains were your invention

And so was this heart of mine

I heard you whisper on the water,

there on the mighty sea

You spoke of love deep as the ocean

When You spoke of Your love for me

I am loved by the Father

I am loved by the Son

It is love that has captured

The heart of this wayward one

I heard your laughter in the sunrise,

amidst the morning birds

A song of freedom for all creation

And you sang me every word

I heard you singing in the silence,

a simple melody

Words of love, O I can hear it

My Father is very fond of me