Judy the Bully dominated the pecking order of little girls on Chicago’s East 81st Street. I was the youngest of the neighborhood crew.

I’m not sure what I did to incite her wrath, but Judy had it in for me. It may have been my four-year old stature or her inner quest for power. But this bully unleashed her fury with a swift punch to my jaw. She bludgeoned my upper lip, loosened my front tooth and left me bleeding on the sidewalk. You could hear my screams for blocks. (That tooth eventually turned black, much to my mother’s dismay.)


My cries reached my daddy’s ears. He stopped everything and came running. You could hear his heavy footsteps bounding across the yard. He reached down and took hold of me. He rescued me from my powerful enemy (while having a good talk with her dad.) Seeing my battle scars, the wrath of God had been unleashed. Nobody better mess with his baby girl!

Whether my dad was bigger than Judy’s didn’t matter. My father fought this battle for me. The bully never bothered me again, although I would scamper in the opposite direction whenever she looked my way. When her family moved to another neighborhood, all of us kids celebrated her departure!

Judy was gone, but she had left her mark. My enemy’s scar revealed every time I smiled. A lasting remembrance of my first and last encounter with a fist. Thank God for baby teeth.

I always believed my dad was bigger and better than all the rest. But this was the first time I saw his anger toward my enemy. He fought for me. He became my knight in shining armor. My protector and advocate. It sure proved he loved me, not that I ever doubted.

My earthly father provided a beautiful picture of my Heavenly Father that day. I’m reminded of it every time I read Psalm 18. It’s a lovely word picture David penned about his Warrior God who fought for him and delivered him from his enemies.

In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for His help. From His temple He heard my voice; my cry came before Him, into his ears. The earth trembled and quaked because He was angry. He parted the heavens and came down. He reached down from on high and took hold of me; He drew me out of deep waters; He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes who were too strong for me.

When I read that scripture, I’m reminded of Dad rescuing his little princess. Reminded how he was there for me no matter what. The one I could count on for protection and provision.

Of course, I’m also reminded there’s been a far greater power taking care of me all my life, even when I didn’t know it. The Bible tells us the Lord is a Warrior. Because He is for me, no one is against me. The mention of His name sends my enemy fleeing. I’m thankful that my earthly daddy showed me what it meant to be loved and protected by my Heavenly Father. And you know, all I had to do was call and they both came running.

Happy Father’s Day to all you Warrior Daddies out there!



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