The Dress

It's been about three years since we had cable in our house. It was the easiest thing I have ever walked away from and may never find my way back. Since we don't have cable, we decided to do Netflix and have found it to be a great option for our family.

The only downside to Netflix (aside from their deplorable movie options if you only have the streaming version) is that if you begin to watch a tv series, then you will watch it obsessively for hours at a time until you finish the entire thing because you have the whole story available to view at any time. Netflix does not piece out seasons a week at a time. You should ask Tony about the time he watched the entire series of 24. We didn't speak for probably two weeks straight while he was swept away in Bauer land. 

I have the ability to watch an episode...ok, maybe 2...and then walk away. And this is what I have done with all the seasons of Say Yes to the Dress and Say Yes to the Dress Atlanta that I've been watching. Mostly the show leaves me shocked with how much people will pay for a wedding dress, but occasionally there is a story that hits home. Recently I finished the last episode and it touched me. 

The episode begins with the introduction of a young bride who brought her father along with other family members to help her pick her dress. Normally dads do not participate in this event, and even if they come along usually don't get to see The Dress. But this dad was different. This dad was suffering from an aggressive form of cancer and every step of this wedding was marked by his solid, comforting presence. 

This big man, with a preacher's voice- he was a former preacher- was inspired. Through the tv I could feel it. He was unphased by the approaching end of his life. He was happy in the face of suffering. He was at peace. And that peace emanated from him and somehow managed to touch me. 

The moment the daughter walked out in The Dress, dad got very emotional. Who could blame him? She was lovely in her bridal white and the love that dad had for his girl was so real and so raw that it nearly came through the screen. As he folded her in his embrace he whispered, "Daddy loves you so much," and the tone and the inflection and the sincerity, I felt it too. It pierced my heart with the knowledge that this is how my Father sees me. Pure and lovely, and so much Love. 

Beaming on me, seeing not the me that loses my temper at my kids and grumbles in traffic and pouts when I don't get my way and who allows fear to dim my faith, He sees me, His daughter, and He softly whispers, "Daddy loves you so much." Words that feel like an embrace in a life marked by His solid, comforting presence.