I have often been called a “daddy’s girl” and I’ll admit it. I am one. I have great memories with my dad and I cherish each memory we continue to make to this day. One of my favorite memories of dad is one I still carry with me each time I step onto a stage at a conference or concert.
In my teenage years, I wanted nothing more than to sing and make my parents proud. My dad was especially at the top of my list. He isn’t easily excited or impressed, so when he acknowledged my achievements, it was something I always celebrated.
As a singer, I performed in many places, but my dad’s ability to attend my numerous performances was limited due to his work schedule. When I was told he would be attending my choir’s performance of “Mozart’s Requiem” at Carnegie Hall, I was elated.
Being taller than most of the boys in my choir, I was always placed on the back row of the risers. The performance at Carnegie Hall was no different. Our back row was pressed tight up against the sound shell which projected our voices into the massive auditorium. I scanned the crowd and saw my dad sitting near the front row. He smiled proudly as we made eye contact, then the performance began.
As our choir sang each piece with clarity and poise, I suddenly noticed that I had neither.Thirty minutes into the concert, the room suddenly turned black. I tried to focus forward, but it was no use. My legs went weak, and I fainted. If only I could have made it a quiet faint, the audience may have never noticed. Unfortunately, I did quite the opposite. I fell straight back and knocked the large sound shell over with an enormous BANG that echoed throughout the concert hall.
The only thing I remember is waking up to see my dad standing over me with a terrified look on his face and the rest of the audience staring in disbelief. As only my dad could do, he smiled with pride and whispered, “You’re always the star of the show.”
The choir finished their performance and I went on to perform in Carnegie Hall in New York the following week. My request to stand on the bottom row during that performance was also granted.
I learned two lessons after falling into that shell. First, that my dad loved me unconditionally and I was still the “star of his show” even after falling and making a complete fool of myself. Secondly, don’t EVER lock your knees while standing on stage!
Perhaps your earthly father is no longer here to remind you of how special you are to him, or maybe you have never felt that kind of affirmation from your father. Remind yourself this Father’s Day that you have a Heavenly Father who loves you more than you can comprehend. So much so that He gave up His only Son to die a grueling death so that the two of you could have the closest relationship possible.
Choose to freely accept the love God has given you and follow in obedience so that your “falls” become less and less. He doesn’t just love us when we do a good job, although obedience is a big key to His blessing. But even when we fall, His love is still there, longing to break through the barriers of sin and pain that can often draw us away from Him.
Have you fallen lately and the crash of your sin was loud enough for everyone to hear? Then look up, and see your Heavenly Father standing over you as He whispers the promise of Zephaniah 3:17, “The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”
God sings over us every day. We are the apple of His eye no matter the size – or the volume – of the tumbles we might take.