Today is my Dad's birthday. He's 47 years old.

My Dad means the world to me. He sung "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," and "Jesus Loves Me" at night when it was just Ryan, Him, and I. He sat through countless puppet shows, came to garage sales we kids put on with all our toys, played with us, and somehow managed to beat us all at "Around the World" every time.

He was my role model for humility, patience, unconditional love, and what a godly husband should look like.

He was the first man to capture and hold my heart entirely, and I loved him with all the love a daughter can give her father.

He was patient, firm, and yet loving when I disobeyed and every time would hold me while I cried, saying, "I love you, but because I love you, I must do this." Then he would pray for me. Oh, I don't know how many night he and my mom poured out their hearts to Christ asking Him to turn my stubbornness into a strength and not my most sinful weakness.

He took me to my first rock concert for my 18th birthday. He instilled in me his love of music, people, and humor. He was my first dance and my first date (father-daughter birthday).

He protected me, loved me, and defended me. He guarded my heart when my future husband came into our lives seeking my hand. He counciled me and made sure his little girl knew what she wanted in a husband. He walked me down the aisle, kissed my forehead, and gave me to my husband.

My Daddy, you will always hold my heart. You will always be my Daddy and no one will ever compare to you. Thank you for ALWAYS being there for me when I needed you the most and those times I thought I didn't, but truly did. You are a great and wonderfully godly man. I'm blessed to call you, Dad. No man comes close to you.

I love you, Dad.