Nestled between the rugged Uinta and Wasatch mountain ranges is a small, beautiful valley. Not only will you find horse pastures, farmland, charming homes, and a great burger joint in this valley, you will also find a historic rail yard and train depot circa 1899. Originally, the trains provided transportation to the earliest settlers of the valley. Now, tourism and restoration has become the primary focus. One-hundred-year-old steam locomotives pull vintage and restored coaches filled with tourists through the surrounding scenic mountains.
About a year ago, the McD clan paid a visit to this valley for the "Day Out With Thomas the Train" event. It was our first visit to the rail yard and train station. White tents had been set up around the premises, to resemble a simple carnival. We ate fresh, homemade kettle corn. We played games, enjoyed a magician, and helped Cam chase after his stray golf ball on the the "putt-putt" course. While we were waiting our turn to ride the train, we decided to take the little ones to the hay bale maze. I snapped some pictures while my McHubby helped Lil and Cam through the maze. One picture stood out to me:
Like a good daddy, James was showing his children the right way to go.
That's what good dads do. They point us in the right direction. They encourage us to choose the best paths. They counsel. They advise. They lead and guide us when we're young; teaching correct principles that help shape us into the moral adults we become.
And, undoubtedly, they are always there for us when we get lost.
Today, I am grateful for my own good dad, who lovingly helped me navigate the frequently lonely (and often confusing) "mazes" of my young life. He continues to help and uplift me.
I am grateful for James, who pushes and pulls and stretches and reaches for "good dad status" on a regular basis. He serves as the steadfast mortar of our family unit. I love the tender heart that lies beneath his quiet exterior.
Mostly, I am grateful for a God above--a divine Father who loves me, knows me, is aware of me, and wants me to be happy. I know when I spend solitary time on my knees--conversing with him through the power of prayer--I am supported and sustained. I am heard.
With His help, I always find my way.