It’s not about the bunny, it’s about the Lamb.

And because of the Lamb, this group of people, my Dad included (right there in the middle of the center table on the right, blue shirt), spent their morning stuffing bulletins for the many thousands of people who will attend Easter services this weekend at our church.

It is Dad’s birthday today, and I am so grateful that I have the blessing of coming home each evening, knowing he is there.

I am grateful for the plane rides he took me on.

I am grateful for driving lessons on dirt roads sitting on his lap.

I am grateful that he let me climb into customer cars for a ride just before he pulled the lever and raised the car on the lift at the station.

I am grateful for stops at the Dairy King after church to get ice cream cones.

I am grateful for my potato chips and macaroni and cheese obsession, passed down from my Dad.

I am grateful for blue pants stained with grease, handkerchiefs to iron, and red grease rags found in every nook and cranny.

I am grateful for credit card slips signed by “Bill Clinton” aka Dad.

I am grateful for a picture that I no longer have, of Dad looking at baby Karissa as she laid on her tummy on a mattress in the back of the work pickup.

I am grateful for the recitals and music programs and ballgames he attended for me and for my girls.

I am grateful for his jokes that he never forgets.

I am grateful for the cards he has given to me since Mom passed away. She always did the card thing, so it is extra special to receive a card from Dad.

I am grateful for two hugs I will never forget: in my bedroom when I told him I was pregnant at 18, and in his living room when I told him my marriage was ending.

I am grateful that my Dad walked by my side in the ugliness I created, experienced, and lived.

I am grateful that my Dad was a witness at our wedding 2 1/2 years ago.

I am grateful that Dad still puts a flower in a vase each week.

I am grateful that Natia now has someone to give her treats all the day long.

I am grateful that Dad likes birds and feels our pain when it comes to the squirrels.

I am grateful that my Dad likes to read and likes to walk. And likes to watch Andy Griffith and Barney and the Royals.

I am grateful that my Dad thinks of others when he sees a political cartoon or funny joke in the newspaper or in an email. He cuts it out/prints it off, and sends it in the actual mail to the person he thinks will enjoy it.

I am grateful that my Dad chose to spend his birthday serving others.

And I am grateful that my Dad has been an example to follow and has shown his children what it means to live under God’s grace and show grace to others.

Happy birthday, Dad. I love you!

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