Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Beauty of a Daddy's Girl

I used to think the "daddy's girl" concept was just a pretty euphemism more referencing a dad's ability to become totally twitter-pated with their daughters. Dad's want to protect their daughters, be it from scraped knees, reckless drivers, or the end-it-be-all... boys. Dad's see their daughters as precious treasure in need of guarding. It hasn't been until now, with E's personality in full bloom, that I see the relationship goes both ways.
We have lots of fun throughout the day - swimming, reading, climbing everything. Around 5:00, I'll start making dinner and Eliaya goes around collecting bracelets, hats, shoes.... when daddy calls to say he's almost home, she begs me to help her put on the dress up accessories and makes a bee-line to the gate next to the front door. The most excited squeal, most rapid feet-stomping, biggest smile, all come the instant daddy walks in the door. You can see it written on her face, "yes! daddy's home to play, I've waited for this all day! He is my daddy and I love him!".

Scripture tells us that God made humans male and female, both in His image (Gen 1:26-27). Different in form, different in roles but entirely equal in worth. I used to be so convinced that I could do anything a man could do, we should be entirely "equal", and by that I meant the same, in all things. The feminist movement rooted home plate in my world-view. Even after becoming a Christian I struggled with wanting to be whom ever I wanted to be, without boundaries. I had no desire to be a pastor or to teach the men of the church, but I wanted that door to be open to me.
We live in a competitive world, we seek to rank everything. Have you noticed this? Movies are rated in the box office by which makes the most money, careers are ranked not by job satisfaction but by which one will make the most money, neighborhoods are ranked by highest average home value. Goodness me even grocery items are ranked by most frequently purchased! God did not create man then create woman with inherently less value. We're both heirs in Christ, both given the mission in the garden to be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it (Gen 1:28), both called to turn from our rebellion against God and be rescued by Him, both called part of the body (the church), and both given the commission to go out and tell others how great and deserving of worship the Lord is. Equal worth. But the Bible is also clear that there are different roles to be filled by men and women (1 Corinthians, Ephesians, Colossians, and Titus all speak to this issue directly) *I wont go into all the details of that now, perhaps Jarrod and I will work on a post together later to talk about this specifically and how it should play out in the home and in life.*
What we don't hear from the media and common world-view is that both roles are equally needed. Through much prayer and unpacking of emotional baggage, I see that the reason I wanted to be "the same" with men was I wanted to be valued, I wanted to be needed, and I wanted to be in control. The first two are (in proper place) desires rightly fulfilled through taking on the role God says is mine to fill! The last is a product of sin, part of the curse that I, in Christ, need to do battle with daily. There is great joy in fulfilling my role as a Christian woman. Learning to value what God says is valuable and be who He says I am... that's where I find freedom. My role is not the same as Jarrod's, and that's a wonderful thing. Our roles, working together, are teaching E and those around us about God and His relationship with man. If we were both the same, it wouldn't be the beautiful picture of Christ and the church. Us being equal worth and different roles is vital.

So, when Eliaya runs to her daddy and he embraces her after a long day's work, I smile. She's learning what the Bible says men are to be and what she is to become as a woman. She's learning that both are of greatest value to Jesus. And perhaps most of all, Jarrod's love to her is modeling the love of the heavenly Father, whom we hope one day, she will know.