• Home
  • Blog
  • About Christie & The Well
  • Meet the Women at the Well
  • You Belong Here
  • The Sonshine Box Ministry
    • Sonshine Box Ideas

Women At The Well

Where Faith is Better Shared

  • Love at the Well
  • Believe at the Well
  • Live at the Well
  • Serve at the Well
You are here: Home / Love at the Well / My Father’s Voice

My Father’s Voice

June 17, 2016

lightstock lamb_202282_medium_christieMy dear friend Paige, a precious mom of five at Tales from the Laundry Room, has about as many faith stories as she does loads of laundry.  I love every one of them, and her recent tale of her daddy is no exception.  Be blessed as you hear from her and your Heavenly Father:

Father’s Day is Sunday. It’s my second without having my dad to celebrate. I miss him terribly, but feel so blessed to have had him as my father. Perhaps I am biased, but there wasn’t a better Daddy in the world.

So in his honor (and in honor of good dads everywhere), I’m sharing one of my favorite stories about my father.

Throughout my childhood, my family kept a tiny flock of sheep in the backyard, as part of a 4-H project.  It was not uncommon for the sheep to find a way of escape from the small pen in our backyard.  It seemed we only became aware of their fugitive state whenever some neighbor telephoned to let us know our wooly pets were out wandering along the roadsides.

Whenever our lambs went for one of their strolls, my father always insisted we immediately  go track down those sheep, and return them as soon as possible to the safety of the pen in our backyard. It didn’t matter if it was day or night. As luck would have it, our  lambs were infamous for taking moonlit walks, the deeper into the night the better … or so it seemed.

I could tell many tales about these sheep-chasing escapades, but one time in particular always stands out in my memory.  It happened on a humid night the fall I turned sixteen.

The ringing of our phone roused me slightly from my deep sleep.  It was soon followed by my dad’s hard knock on the door of the bedroom I shared with my sister.   “Paige,” he said, “get up! The sheep are out along the highway, somewhere toward the high school. Your brother and I are heading out now.  You follow along just as soon as you get dressed. Meet us on the other side of the bridge.”

I heard the front door shut as they walked out of the house, and then their voices carrying softly as they walked across the front yard, headed toward the highway that stretched out in front of our brick home.  A wave of jealousy swept over me as I looked over at my younger sister, snugly tucked into dreams instead of being forced to go on a midnight  goose (er … sheep) hunt for a bunch of wayward lambs.

Continue reading the rest of the sheep story and hearing His voice at Tales from the Laundry Room.

 

  • Author
  • Recent Posts
Christie Hughes
Christie Hughes
I’m a mama. A lot of a days I’m a mess of a mama. I’m a daughter. Kind of messy there too. But I have a Heavenly Father who thinks that I’m to die for. I’m a wife. Married to my best-friend and my 6th grade crush. I saved him for last, though most days he puts me first. I’m one blessed mess.

I like to write. Why do I write? Kind of hard to say, but I’ll go straight from the hard part and hit straight to the heart part. It’s about that daughter part. What this daughter misses most about her mama are the encouraging words. So I’m just here leaving a legacy of love and words to mine. For them, for me, and for anyone else who could use the same. Sitting at the well. As I simply write out life and fight out fears in the light of His Word.
Christie Hughes
Latest posts by Christie Hughes (see all)
  • We Weren’t Made to Walk Alone - March 4, 2021
  • He Wrote You a Letter - February 12, 2021
  • Well Done, Woman! - January 26, 2021

Filed Under: Love at the Well Tagged With: a Daughter's faith, faith, Father's Day, Hearing God's Voice, lamb

About Christie Hughes

I’m a mama. A lot of a days I’m a mess of a mama. I’m a daughter. Kind of messy there too. But I have a Heavenly Father who thinks that I’m to die for. I’m a wife. Married to my best-friend and my 6th grade crush. I saved him for last, though most days he puts me first. I’m one blessed mess.

I like to write. Why do I write? Kind of hard to say, but I’ll go straight from the hard part and hit straight to the heart part. It’s about that daughter part. What this daughter misses most about her mama are the encouraging words. So I’m just here leaving a legacy of love and words to mine. For them, for me, and for anyone else who could use the same. Sitting at the well. As I simply write out life and fight out fears in the light of His Word.

Join Me at the Well

About Christie

What about me? Ugh! Don’t ya just loathe this part? How do you cram who you are into a few chunks of paragraphs? I like doing that about as much as I liked saying cheese in the bobble-head photo hovering above. But just like the pic and the blog, I’m a work in progress. A real WIP. Read More…

Grab Our Button

Women at the Well
Generate your button code

Let’s Connect

  • Facebook
  • Pinterest
  • RSS
  • Twitter

Latest from Instagram

[instagram-feed]

Copyright © 2025 · Graceful theme by Restored 316 · Hosting & Support by Merri Dennis & Caring Hands Media

Copyright © 2025 · Graceful Theme on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in