I've once heard it said that you should never advertise your husband.
And I love that saying.
So hear me. I'm not trying to advertise my husband.
I stumbled across this picture while unpacking the garage on Wednesday.
It's my favorite picture of Dave.
And he's not even holding one of our children.
Actually, it was taken before we even had children.
But I'm using it anyway. For a Father's Day post.
I know it's weird. Just stay with me.
It was taken about a year after we were married.
We were vacationing at Priest Lake, Idaho with friends.
The little baby he is holding will start 6th grade in the Fall.
His eyes are older now.
He's lived so much life.
He was a paramedic when that picture was taken.
Working part-time in youth ministry.
Not because he had to. But because he loved to.
Now he is a pastor of a sweet little church plant.
Not because he has to. But because he loves to.
Yesterday morning, he preached on Psalm 145:4.
On how the primary role of a father is to glorify Christ to their children.
To make known to them His mighty acts and works.
As parents, we can not simply be rule givers without making known the reason for the rules.
We cannot expect our children to love and worship Christ if we don't show them what that looks like.
I praise Jesus that the daddy to my girls is a preacher.
A good preacher.
Who lives what he preaches.
I'm well aware that I could be a wife who sits through sermons.
With children who will one day sit through sermons.
Bitter. Listening to a hypocrite. A pharisee.
Struggling to reconcile the man that we live with against the man that stands before his congregation every Sunday.
Forced to hide the fact that his words and actions don't match up.
But I am not. They will not.
And for that, I am thankful.
I am not saying he is perfect.
But he preaches that part, too.
He is vulnerable. And real. And kind. And gracious.
And I love him.
We love him.
Happy Father's Day, babe.
We are so thankful for you.