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Tuesday, January 8, 2013

After the Bands Played (A Real Man)

It's pretty cool, having a band director as a father. There a lot of weird, random perks that come with it. Like the fact that I got to go to all the football games and competitions free this year. Maybe it's because I'm a musician, but I absolutely love going to performances, concerts and competitions of any sort. I hadn't made it to any of the competitions during the fall, so naturally, I was thrilled when I found I would finally get to go to the last one that year.

The band competition was everything I hoped it would be and the marching band had done an amazing job. I always enjoyed their shows. By the time the competition had ended, night had fallen. Back at the school, it was chaotic for my dad, unloading instruments and making sure kids had their rides home. Finally, the band room was totally emptied of people. Only my dad and I remained.

Finally able to take a breath and relax, he looked and me and smiled. "Do you know about my tradition?" My dad is a well-known among his family, friends, and students as being germ-a-phobic. It was only natural that the first thing he did was grab the bottle of Germ-X and pump a large amount into his hands.

"Tradition?" I grinned. "You mean the Germ-X?" I too grabbed the Germ-X and rubbed a generous amount of it into my hands.

"No." He bowed his head and I did the same, closing my eyes. After the noise and busyness of the competition and bus ride, it seemed almost absolutely silent. "Dear God...." He began. He offered up a prayer of sincere thanks for the day, his students, the band.

My dad had been teaching marching band for years. I'm not sure why I had never been with him before to discover his tradition of prayer and yet, after every competition, as soon as he was alone, he would bow his head in thanks.

There are many little moments in life that I cherish.Sometimes for no particular reason at all. A kind word just when I needed it most, an unexpected gesture of kindness or those quiet moments with a friend, family member, or God. That humble, sweet prayer is one of my most cherished memories.

As he prayed, a thought entered my mind. My dad is a real man. What makes him a real man?

A Real Man is
  • Someone who loves God and His Word.
  • A Servant Leader to his wife and family.
  • A Protector of Truth and of the people he loves.
  • Someone who stands strong for what he believes, but is gracious and forgiving of others who wrong him.
  • Someone who cares for and respects others, even if it means sacrificing his ego.
  • Someone who is humble enough to admit when he is wrong.
  • A man who Prays.
After my dad, I'd say my future husband has some big shoes to fill. My dad is the best man I know

-Faye



My Daddy and I dancing at the Christmas Ball ^.^