In Dad's Arm

Hey steemit family 💜
Excited to share the story of my dad "my hero here"
In Dad’s Arms – My Safe Place

When I hear the phrase In Dad’s arms, I don’t just see physical arms I see comfort, sacrifice, protection, and love that words can’t fully explain. To me, Dad’s arms mean a place where I’m safe, where I’m understood, and where I can always return no matter how old I get

Growing up, my dad was not the type to shout or make a show of his love, but he expressed it deeply through his actions. I still remember how he would wash my school uniforms with his own hands, carefully scrubbing them clean like it was the most important job in the world. Back then, I didn’t think much of it. I just saw it as something that had to be done. But now I understand it was his way of showing love, of making sure I was always clean, presentable, and cared for. His love wasn’t loud it was consistent.

But the moment that forever shaped my view of my father happened when I was much older. I had finished secondary school when I developed a terrible boil on my fingers. It was a pain I had never felt before. The boil made my fingers swell badly, and the pain would not let me sleep. I cried through many nights, and as I cried, my dad cried with me. He wasn’t just physically present he was emotionally present. He constantly prayed to God for my healing, sometimes even weeping in his quiet time with God.

There was a particular night I will never forget. The pain was so bad that I couldn’t stop shaking my hand. My dad stayed up all night with me, fanning my hand gently, trying his best to bring me some relief. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t complain. He just sat with me, fanning me, crying, and praying to God to take the pain away. I saw my dad’s heart clearly that night. He would have taken the pain from me if he could. That is what it means to be in Dad’s arms to have someone who shares your pain and carries your burden like it’s his own.

In my culture, Father’s Day is not celebrated with as much noise as Mother’s Day. Most times, people barely even notice it. Maybe they’ll send a simple text message or say, "Happy Father’s Day, sir" in passing. But to me, celebrating Father’s Day is just as important as celebrating any other special day. On a scale of 1 to 10, I rate it a solid 10. Fathers like mine, who sacrifice quietly, who love deeply without needing attention, deserve to be celebrated every day, not just on Father’s Day.

If I had the chance to plan a special Father’s Day celebration with my dad, I wouldn’t need to organize anything fancy. I would love to just spend simple, quality time with him maybe go somewhere peaceful where we can talk about life, laugh over old memories, and just enjoy each other’s company. My perfect day with him would be full of meaningful conversations and probably a good meal to share. No big crowd, just me and my dad.

When I read the Bible verse in Deuteronomy 1:31, “He has brought us here, as if he were carrying us in his arms, and so far nothing has happened to us. He has been a father to us,” it reminds me so much of my dad’s role in my life. Truly, God carries us through the people He places in our lives, and my dad has been one of God’s greatest gifts to me. God used my dad’s hands, his tears, and his prayers to carry me through some of my toughest seasons. I believe God was showing me His fatherly love through my earthly father.

One thing I’ve come to appreciate now is that not everyone has a story like mine. Some people never knew their fathers. Some have fathers who were absent or who caused them pain. I don’t take it for granted that I was blessed with a father who was present not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. He showed up, and he stayed.

When I was younger, I probably didn’t say “thank you” enough. Maybe I didn’t even fully understand the weight of the things he did for me. But now, as I’ve grown older, I see it clearly. It’s the quiet sacrifices that stick with me the most. It’s the nights he stayed awake. It’s the prayers he prayed when no one was watching. It’s the small, daily acts of care like washing my uniforms that tell me how much he loves me.

In Dad’s arms, I have always found my safest place. And even though I’m older now and maybe taller than when he used to carry me, in his arms I will always be that child who is loved, cared for, and protected.

As Father’s Day approaches, the world may celebrate loudly or quietly, but in my heart, I celebrate my dad every single day. I thank God for blessing me with a father whose arms I could always run into, whose love still carries me even now.

Inviting my friends to participate
@kwinberry @imohmitchel @samuelbrilliant @davidmarkgeorge