Berries and some doses of REVIVAL!

Before I forget: I want to write down some details of my day I was "chewing on" (as my former youth pastor would say).

So after my 12 hour night shift, I decided to go to my parents' place.  They live about 45 minutes away from my work without traffic, and I got there in 41 minutes!  Makes me smile :)

Anyway, my purpose of going there instead of sleeping for my usual 3-6 after my last day of work is because I needed to pick a heap load of crap items that I have piled at my Mom's for a lovely shower I threw for my sister-in-law.

So that was my point of going.... initially.  But then I told my Dad the night before I was going to be there early and he said, "I took tomorrow off!  I'll be berry picking."  I beamed and said, "Can I please come?!"  HE of course said "Yes!"
................Let me pause to say I'm crying!!!  Daddy dates mean the most to me.......................

This morning when I called him he was at the berry farm and I said, "Oh no!  I'm still in Vancouver just leaving!  Can you wait for me?"  Sometimes my Dad misplaces plans but sometimes I think he just does what he wants and hopes that the plans still work out :)  He said, "I'll come home and meet you and we can go again."

I got home and he was making blueberry muffins for the women who work at Blueberry Hill.  He does this every year, every week.  We got to the farm and he saw the ladies for the second time.  He handed them his muffins with such a big grin.  They said "Yay!  We missed you last week.  We thought 'The Muffin Man moved!' Thank you for bringing them."

My Dad LOVES serving.  He doesn't say much, but he'll bring out fresh made coffee in church, or make a huge meal just because you said you were stopping by, or buy a thousand copies of Mr. Roger's biography that shows what faith he had and give it to his customers he meets in the midst of their burned down homes (I think to bring some hope and he's hoping they'll find Jesus in the pages), or just making muffins after he picks the berries that very morning for all those farm workers.  It's his heart.  His parents were always serving and his sisters are the same way.  I love seeing how cathartic it is for him to pick berries.

Dad told me the story of how he started making muffins.  He started coming to Blueberry Hill the first week of July at the start of blueberry season when he was diagnosed with Bells Palsy.  Dad's boss told him to take a week off.  He had to wear and eye patch and his smile was particularly crooked because the symptoms are nerve damage.  You look like you've had a stroke.  Dad told me he felt like he looked so strange and he could just come to the berry patch at 6 am when it opened and just pick.  No one would notice him and those that weighed his berries were so kind.  He decided to make muffins for them.  That was when I was 11.  Now I'm 25 (gahhh!).

So I don't have pictures of us picking.  I like my new phone's camera, but decided I wanted to live it rather than document it for others.  It felt SO good just to do that.  Not post, LIVE it :)

So.... I guess I'll write the REVIVAL next week. whoopsies.  LONG post.

I'm just glad to spend some time with my dad.  He has a hard time remembering our plans sometimes, but he always ends up changing his day for me, dropping off NyQuil, berries and a new air conditioner at my doorstep while I sleep the days away.  He is faithful like no one else. Proud to say he's mine :)