THREE ANGELS BROADCASTING NETWORK DEVOTIONAL
Daddy’s Girl
By Shelley Quinn
March 15th, 2026
“Whoever will humble himself therefore and become like this little child [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving] is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:4 (AMP)
Memories of my father flicker like shadowy silhouettes cast on the wall by candlelight. Often, I wonder if some are true recollections, or stories told by relatives that I’ve tucked away in the corner of my mind. I was only six years old when he was killed, but he was my hero. I was a “Daddy’s girl” and stood in awe of him. I thought he could do anything. Relatives always said I was exactly like my father. His easy laughter, cheery disposition, love of strangers, and strong sense of adventure are definitely in my genes.
His obsession with flying was contagious. After serving as an Air Force pilot, he purchased his own plane for private use. As a three-year-old, I squealed with delight when he flew upside down and looped around in the sky on the way to Grandma’s house. Fear never entered my mind.
Daddy grew up one block from the Pacific. His love of the ocean spilled over to the depths of my heart. At four years old, he permitted me to climb on his back and hold onto his neck as he dove through oncoming waves. My mother would have fainted at this adventure, and my aunt who witnessed this said she couldn’t have trusted her four-year-old to do this, but my father knew I would hang on tightly. He trusted me and I trusted him—no matter what we faced together.
I vividly recall one sweltering day at the beach. Walking hand in hand with Daddy, I tried to stay in his shadow to buffer me from the rays of the sun. The farther we walked away from the water, the hotter the sand became. My bare feet burned, and I started crying. His reaction was alarming.
“If you’re just being a whiner, I’m gonna spank you!” he threatened in an unordinary manner, as he stooped to remove his sandal to test the seashore. Placing his bare foot on the sand, he suddenly swooped me up in his arms and kissed my feet apologetically—carrying me the rest of the way home.
Today, I’m still a “Daddy’s girl,” and stand in awe of my Heavenly Father who is my Provider and Protector. I am His child, and He desires my childlike trust in Him. His plan of salvation is simple—I must remain humbly dependent upon Him. This dependency increases the intimacy of our Father-daughter love relationship.
When the world seems upside down, or waves crash around me, I do not fear. My Heavenly Father and I face all challenges together. As His child, He bids me to walk hand in hand with Him—staying safely in the shadow of His wings. And when the heat of life becomes unbearable, my Father carries me in His everlasting arms.
Daddy’s Girl
By Shelley Quinn
March 15th, 2026
“Whoever will humble himself therefore and become like this little child [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving] is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:4 (AMP)
Memories of my father flicker like shadowy silhouettes cast on the wall by candlelight. Often, I wonder if some are true recollections, or stories told by relatives that I’ve tucked away in the corner of my mind. I was only six years old when he was killed, but he was my hero. I was a “Daddy’s girl” and stood in awe of him. I thought he could do anything. Relatives always said I was exactly like my father. His easy laughter, cheery disposition, love of strangers, and strong sense of adventure are definitely in my genes.
His obsession with flying was contagious. After serving as an Air Force pilot, he purchased his own plane for private use. As a three-year-old, I squealed with delight when he flew upside down and looped around in the sky on the way to Grandma’s house. Fear never entered my mind.
Daddy grew up one block from the Pacific. His love of the ocean spilled over to the depths of my heart. At four years old, he permitted me to climb on his back and hold onto his neck as he dove through oncoming waves. My mother would have fainted at this adventure, and my aunt who witnessed this said she couldn’t have trusted her four-year-old to do this, but my father knew I would hang on tightly. He trusted me and I trusted him—no matter what we faced together.
I vividly recall one sweltering day at the beach. Walking hand in hand with Daddy, I tried to stay in his shadow to buffer me from the rays of the sun. The farther we walked away from the water, the hotter the sand became. My bare feet burned, and I started crying. His reaction was alarming.
“If you’re just being a whiner, I’m gonna spank you!” he threatened in an unordinary manner, as he stooped to remove his sandal to test the seashore. Placing his bare foot on the sand, he suddenly swooped me up in his arms and kissed my feet apologetically—carrying me the rest of the way home.
Today, I’m still a “Daddy’s girl,” and stand in awe of my Heavenly Father who is my Provider and Protector. I am His child, and He desires my childlike trust in Him. His plan of salvation is simple—I must remain humbly dependent upon Him. This dependency increases the intimacy of our Father-daughter love relationship.
When the world seems upside down, or waves crash around me, I do not fear. My Heavenly Father and I face all challenges together. As His child, He bids me to walk hand in hand with Him—staying safely in the shadow of His wings. And when the heat of life becomes unbearable, my Father carries me in His everlasting arms.
THREE ANGELS BROADCASTING NETWORK DEVOTIONAL
Daddy’s Girl
By Shelley Quinn
March 15th, 2026
“Whoever will humble himself therefore and become like this little child [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving] is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:4 (AMP)
Memories of my father flicker like shadowy silhouettes cast on the wall by candlelight. Often, I wonder if some are true recollections, or stories told by relatives that I’ve tucked away in the corner of my mind. I was only six years old when he was killed, but he was my hero. I was a “Daddy’s girl” and stood in awe of him. I thought he could do anything. Relatives always said I was exactly like my father. His easy laughter, cheery disposition, love of strangers, and strong sense of adventure are definitely in my genes.
His obsession with flying was contagious. After serving as an Air Force pilot, he purchased his own plane for private use. As a three-year-old, I squealed with delight when he flew upside down and looped around in the sky on the way to Grandma’s house. Fear never entered my mind.
Daddy grew up one block from the Pacific. His love of the ocean spilled over to the depths of my heart. At four years old, he permitted me to climb on his back and hold onto his neck as he dove through oncoming waves. My mother would have fainted at this adventure, and my aunt who witnessed this said she couldn’t have trusted her four-year-old to do this, but my father knew I would hang on tightly. He trusted me and I trusted him—no matter what we faced together.
I vividly recall one sweltering day at the beach. Walking hand in hand with Daddy, I tried to stay in his shadow to buffer me from the rays of the sun. The farther we walked away from the water, the hotter the sand became. My bare feet burned, and I started crying. His reaction was alarming.
“If you’re just being a whiner, I’m gonna spank you!” he threatened in an unordinary manner, as he stooped to remove his sandal to test the seashore. Placing his bare foot on the sand, he suddenly swooped me up in his arms and kissed my feet apologetically—carrying me the rest of the way home.
Today, I’m still a “Daddy’s girl,” and stand in awe of my Heavenly Father who is my Provider and Protector. I am His child, and He desires my childlike trust in Him. His plan of salvation is simple—I must remain humbly dependent upon Him. This dependency increases the intimacy of our Father-daughter love relationship.
When the world seems upside down, or waves crash around me, I do not fear. My Heavenly Father and I face all challenges together. As His child, He bids me to walk hand in hand with Him—staying safely in the shadow of His wings. And when the heat of life becomes unbearable, my Father carries me in His everlasting arms.
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