Daddy's Daughters

As most of you know, I'm the father of four girls. They are the most interesting, different, engaging little people I know, and I love being their daddy. When people ask me if I'm ever sad that we don't have any boys, I tell them that, honestly, I don't even think about it. And I don't.

This is when I usually get "the warning" - the one that, supposedly, girls are easier now when they're younger because they mature faster, but will inevitably become much bigger handfuls in their teenage years when hormones kick in.

Overwhelming handfuls, they say, comparable only to the biblical plagues of God.

I don't buy it, but not because I'm blind to my daughters' potential to sin (hardly - they get it from me); rather, Megan and I have determined not to fall down fearful at the feet of some self-fulfilling prophecy about having dreadfully-moody teenaged daughters in the house (especially when we'll have four of them all at once). This, it seems, is not walking by faith.

Don't get me wrong: the girls have their moody moments (even now), but most of them are because of me as much as aimed at me. In many ways, they are their father's daughters when it comes to why and how they sin (not to mention their mother's, as her biggest problem and source of sin - without question - is usually me). But they love God, and just as he is redeeming the lives of their parents, their parents believe he will do the same for theirs. I may be their daddy, but he's the Daddy, and that makes all the difference in the world.

Not sure where I'm going with any of this, other than to say that after having four little girls bring you breakfast in bed (cinnamon toast, bowl of Grape Nuts, glass of milk, and handpicked flowers), spend a solid hour on their own picking up their rooms in your honor, and hug and kiss you all day long, there's nothing better than having daughters.

Ask me again in ten years when we have four teenagers in the house and, by God's grace, I'm praying and believing I'll feel the same way.