In the late night hours as the sun has gone to bed and in the stillness of the night I find myself in the darkness of my room. It now feels safe. Safe to let the tears flow freely from my body as my heart cries out to the God, who I cling to in desperation. I have this story, but a story that I have never been quite sure anyone would believe. So I kept my story deep inside of me. I would wait until dark settled in and then I would pray. I wouldn’t just pray, I cried out to God. I asked God if He would send someone to take me from these nightmares, from these messages, from the pain, from these moments, and from everything. Would He send someone here to this little girl who would be willing to love me for me. I can’t be loved for what I have done or what I will become because I am filled with despair. I am full of negativity. I am full of anger. I am full of loss. I am full of so many emotions I can’t always articulate them. My heart is so full of what I can’t be, I need someone to just love me for me. Love me for who I am and someone who will never give up on me. Someone who will show me what love really means.

I have never fully revealed the story inside my heart. I can’t its too hard for me to go to those parts of me. But as I remember sitting in my room crying out to God asking him to give me my hearts desire, a Father. I didn’t in those hard, long,  and stressful years stop and really look around me. God in so many ways gave me more than I realized. I started out with my own real Father. He was a man I look like, some say. Do I act like him? I doubt that… I am probably to outspoken, to stubborn, to strong willed for my real Dad. The way he has been described to me, leads me to believe that I didn’t gain his softer side, but his athletic ability. What I did gain from my Dad, was the realization that I needed a Dad. I needed a man to make my hero, a man, to look up to, a man, to help me feel safe, or a man, to be my Dad. My real Dad was my first, and he loved me even though I can’t remember him.

Each year I grew older, as we all do. My life was this roller coaster of sorts. I ran in and out of the lives of people around me. It was all dependent on where life was taking me. I had all sorts of fill-in Dad’s. One of my fill-ins, was a soccer coach. He wasn’t a warm fuzzy, as in he wasn’t going to greet me with a gigantic hug or something, but he filled in. He was the man on the sidelines of games, the coach, the disciplinarian, the stern voice, but he was also there looking out for me. I owe this man a lot. Why, well because I am not always sure I would have become the coach I am today without him. While his memory is filled with pulling me out of games because it appeared I punched someone, (ref didn’t see it), or pulled me from the game because my words back to the ref were not sweet or kind words. It wasn’t just the action of pulling me from the game it was what he said after I was on the bench and there were lots of words. Sometimes he had enough of me, so his wife would have to come and give me the low down on my attitude, behavior… like I can be aggressive, but punching someone crossed the line. I told her that day, i thought as long as the ref didn’t see me I was good. She didn’t see it the same way. I was told by her, if given the opportunity to go back in that I needed to get restitution goal. I did get to go back in and did just as she said. I think I did it a little to easily for her liking, pretty sure I saw her give me an eye roll. To say this coach was my first non real Dad, would probably be a true statement. After all , he has coached me since 1st grade. This coach taught me how to stay calm, how to keep my composure, and that even when I would lose it emotionally on the field, he never gave up on me. He kept pursuing me, pushing me, believing in me, and trusting that one day all his hard work would pay off. So this soccer Dad of mine, I think it did pay off. I haven’t  gotten carded as a coach yet, and he would probably say I have the highest cards received by any player he has ever coached… On another occasion, my real mother promised me she would finally come watch me play soccer. She hadn’t ever watched me, I was so consumed by watching for her I was unfocused on the game, again I got pulled out. I remember giving them both some attitude because I was out and I hadn’t done anything wrong. I got pulled for them to sit me down and gently break my heart. They both ever so gently told me that as much as I want my mom to be here, she isn’t coming and you just need to play for you. I sat at the end of that bench, took a couple deep breaths to gain my composure and stuff the wounded parts of my heart deep below where it couldn’t hurt me anymore, and I did just that. This soccer Dad of mine taught me soccer and he taught me life.

Another Dad, I had was the man who walked me down the aisle. Bill. Funny thing is he has my real Dad’s name. Bill, was an adorably sweet man. I probably could do no wrong in his eyes. I don’t know what he saw in me, but just looking at him, made me know he was proud of me. I lived with him and his wife in High School. They came to all my soccer games, and when I came off the field, I had someone there for me. They were always proud of how I played, even when I had a bad day. I know Bill was so excited to walk me down the aisle, and I was happy to give him that honor. He filled a huge role in my heart. Him and his wife took on more than just me when I entered their home. It caused division between them and my real mom and I have lived with the pain of sometimes wondering if I was worth it to them. Like, the turmoil my mother caused them, if they could do it again, would they still take me in knowing how she treated them. They were a safe haven, they loved me like their own and were a huge part of me surviving High School. I recently was coaching game for my High school and Bill and his wife came just briefly and I can’t tell you how excited I was just to see them. I probably have not told them enough how very blessed and thankful I am for them!

During some of the same time, I met another Dad- Frank! Frank was an AMAZING cook. I am not sure if I was more sad when they moved away because I was losing them or the food- ha! Its not very often I would leave an indoor soccer game to get to dinner on time at their house, but I did. I always got the impression if dinner was at 6, then I needed to be present at 6, not 6:30… Frank was this giant teddy bear. I would go to their house and sit on the couch next to Frank and just lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart beat. He would wrap his arms around me and I knew I was so loved. He filled the emotional tank of my heart, and because he didn’t have a daughter, I think he had a soft spot for me.

My circles of life took me many places. I always had this infatuation with men that could fill the Dad size hole in my heart. The soccer coach filled it but not that whole part of me. By the time I got to Jr. High, I met a family from church. I was instantly drawn in, I can’t quite remember the moment, but something clicked and something made me feel safe. Even though, I felt safe I never revealed my deep secrets because that was what they were secrets tucked away inside of me. This Dad came with a Mom as well as siblings, but again no daughters. And I did come in and out of their lives all the way through and into my adult life. I recently told them, I could never have imagined how that chance encounter as a Jr. High kid would be the start of the relationship I have with them today. They represent parents to me. Back then I had dinners with them, hung out with their kids, and as I got older listened, well maybe half listened to this Dad, on his advice to me about boys, dating and whatever other Fatherly words he would speak to me. What most people wouldn’t know or realize is that when it seems I am not listening to you I really am. What this Dad, did for me was he accepted me for me. He loved me in the ugly teen years, and was never afraid to be a Dad to me. I am sure he wouldn’t want to admit it, but I am sure I frustrate him. I would assume I frustrate him because I am stubborn, strong- willed, and independent, but its probably the same reasons he loves me. I am sure he wishes I could just accept that he loves me like one of his own kids, but I struggle because as much as I want to believe he is my Dad, I still feel like that unloveable kid. But this Dad, that I met in Jr. High has stood by, sometimes from a distance, but whenever I called/texted he answered me. I would wish him happy Father’s Day year after year because he was the one man that when I was a little Jr. High kid, I allowed him into that place in my heart. One day, when life was becoming to much for me to bear and I needed a Dad, I reached out to him. It was scary, I wasn’t sure I was ready, but what I found was the same man, who was willing and able to be a Dad to me in Jr. High, still waiting to fill that place for me. One day, I will never question it- One day, but for now walking out of their house, giving them a hug and telling them “I love you” is the first of many steps in the right direction.

My husband recently pointed out how I have had different couples filter in and out my life and a few similarities are revealed in these couples and they are a strong female woman and a soft hearted male. He pointed out to me how I knew what I needed and sought it out. I may not seem like a warm fuzzy, well I am not. But I do have this soft part of me that is fearful of being that way, so I have always fought my need to feel loved in such a way. These Dad’s for me have helped to form me, they have loved me, they have nurtured the wounds of my heart. There are really countless other men, they have filled roles of Dad’s to me. A blog post could never encompass all of the men who played a role in my life. One thing I have recognized is this: that little girl who cried in the stillness of her room, praying to be taken from that moment to have a Dad who would love her for her, got her answer to her prayer. It just wasn’t how I thought it would be. God gave me many Dad’s. Many Earthly Dad’s that have loved me near and far and still do. I am forever grateful for the men who have stood up and shown me the love of a father. A youth pastor whom, was like a Dad to me, but a tad young- revealed to me and showed me the way to Christ. I may have been a Christian when I met him, but this pastor invested himself and his family into my life. And because he did, he kindled a faith inside of me. And while I was seeking to feel loved and to be loved by a real Dad, he showed me how much my Father in Heaven has always loved me. And even when life drills daggers at my heart and I lose sight of God’s everlasting love for me, I always come back to God, the truest of a Father’s Love. Sometimes, its just nice to feel the real arms of an Earthly Father around me, who can verbally tell me he loves me and is proud of me. SO thanks to all the Dad’s who have invested in me, loved me, encouraged me, pushed me, and balanced me out. My heart is better because of each of you.

And to the man I call Dad, thanks for never giving up on me, thanks for being who you are and showing me what love really is. I love you.