My first vivid memory of seeing my daddy cry was at my momma’s funeral as a 6-year-old. As he held me close on his lap I could see the tears running down his face as freely as they ran down mine. I was struggling to accept that I’d never see my momma again until heaven, which seemed very, very far away, and I already missed her. I knew daddy missed her too, but he kept up a brave front after that day, at least in front of my brother and me.
I saw my daddy shed tears as he preached about Jesus’ death on the cross, or as he gave the invitation after his sermon, weeping from his heavy burden for lost souls. And many times his face was wet with tears when he got up from kneeling to pray, or came out from praying in his room.
When I was in painful labor with my son, my daddy held my hand as long as he could stay in the room with me. I saw the tears fall down his face as he leaned down and said, “I would take the pain for you if I could, honey”.
When my first grandson, his first great-grandchild, was killed in a car accident, my daddy’s tears fell as he looked into the tiny casket of the 9 week old baby. A few years later, my daddy’s tears flowed once again as he buried his own son, when my brother died. Our family has had many losses, and many sad times through the years, countless tears have been shed.
Expressing grief has not been the only time I’ve seen my daddy’s tears, sometimes they were tears of joy. Like the day we had a big surprise celebration to honor him for his 50 years of being a minister. The church was standing room only with people from several states who came to honor him for the impact he’s had on their lives.
My daddy’s tears have taught me that strong men do cry, and that our emotions are God-given. Scripture tells us that Jesus also wept. In fact, the Bible says God puts our tears in a bottle. Somewhere God has a bottle of my daddy’s tears, a testament to the compassionate, caring man he is.
This year will be 57 years my daddy has been in the ministry, and although he’s slowed down considerably, he’s still preaching. The passage from Zephaniah 3:17 was the theme for his 50th year anniversary, and there were many special songs chosen for the occasion. Most were gospel songs, but my sister honored him with the song “Daddy’s Hands”, which was her special tribute to him. The words to the song and the artist credit follow.
“The LORD your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17 (NKJV)
This is my daddy’s hands:

Daddy’s Hands (Lyrics)
I remember Daddy’s hands, folded silently in prayer.
And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare.
You could read quite a story, in the callouses and lines.
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.
Daddy’s hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy’s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy’s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I’ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy’s hands.
I remember Daddy’s hands, how they held my Mama tight,
And patted my back, for something done right.
There are things that I’ve forgotten, that I loved about the man,
But I’ll always remember the love in Daddy’s hands.
Daddy’s hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy’s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy’s hands, weren’t always gentle
But I’ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy’s hands.
I remember Daddy’s hands, working ’til they bled.
Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed.
If I could do things over, I’d live my life again.
And never take for granted the love in Daddy’s hands.
Daddy’s hands were soft and kind when I was cryin’.
Daddy’s hands, were hard as steel when I’d done wrong.
Daddy’s hands, weren’t always gentle
But I’ve come to understand.
There was always love …
In Daddy’s hands.
Artist: Holly Dunn
Daddy’s Hands by Holly Dunn
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