My Father's Practice

I was reminded the other day of something my father used to do. He had four daughters in six years, not counting his son who is one year older than his oldest daughter, and he wanted each of his daughters to grow up feeling special and wanted, unlike his childhood. When we were fairly young, he began a practice of telling each of his daughters that they were his favorite. He always did this privately out of the hearing of any of his other daughters. But he often told us that we were his favorite.

For years, I was convinced I was his little princess, his favorite, and had a very special relationship with my daddy. It wasn't until much later, when we were all older, that one of my sisters commented about the fact that she was Daddy's favorite. This opened the floodgate and each of us poured out our stories of how we were Daddy's favorite. When it was all done, we sat staring at each other. Finally, one of my sisters began to snicker.

"Well, he pulled it off," she commented. "He succeeded in making each of us think we were the most special prize in the world."

And he had. By the time we discovered the truth, that each of us were his favorite, our formation and character were already developed and, despite the fact that we all knew he had told the others the same thing, we all secretly still believed that WE were really his favorite.

Into adulthood, when we all gathered for family functions, one of us would say, "You know, I'm Daddy's favorite," which would immediately be followed by arguments from the remaining daughters about how they were the favorite.

Each of us have a strong, loving, caring, understanding relationship with our Daddy. It certainly couldn't have been a bad thing, this plan of his. It resulted in secure women who love each other and their parents above everything but the Lord and their own families - something my father never experienced.

I started a couple of weeks ago talking privately with my children. While snuggling Deanna at bedtime, in the quiet of the darkness, I would whisper gently in her ear that she was my favorite. At nap time, Daelyn received the word. Last night at bedtime was Dane's turn.

My prayer is that each of my children will grow up with that deep sense of belonging and being loved like no other. I pray that they will love each other and Don and I as much as my family does each other and my parents. I pray that they will mature into secure, bold young people who are not afraid to stand up for what they believe because they know they will always be supported by their siblings and parents. I pray for a peaceful, happy life grounded in the Lord and surrounded by people who respect them. I pray that they will always be able to ride out the storms and not fear what lies ahead. I pray that they will not run from conflict or hard times but will embrace it with the knowledge that God's grace is sufficient for everything and it is only through fire that we burn off the dross and purify our hearts.

And, for now, I tell each of them that they are my favorite.