When I was a little girl I did not have a daddy.

I did not get spun or twirled and when I put on my pretty dresses I had no one to show them to.

Now I am all grown up with a daughter of my own.

And she has a daddy. And a lot of dresses.

And it is overwhelming my heart to see the way he loves her and the way she needs him.

 I am beginning to see what I’ve been missing.

I am finally able to truly grieve the loss of something I never had.

And I am finding that although my father left, my need for him never did.

My need for him still is.

All my life I have felt this need and have mistaken it for neediness and weakness.

 I have felt ashamed of this deep longing I have inside of me because it has been like a thirst that cannot be quenched.

It has felt desperate.  And I have thought that I needed deliverance from it.

But when I see my daughter look up at her daddy-

when I see her waiting for him to look at her-

I see myself.

And I see my need.

And I see that it is my deliverance.

When I was a little girl I did not have a daddy.

I did not get spun or twirled and when I put on my pretty dresses I had no one to show them to.

Or maybe I did…

maybe I do…