on manly men and being protected

Disclaimer
You will be offended by this post if you are one of the following: feminist, misogynist, pacifist, anti-outdoors/anti-camping, anti-vigilantism, or anti-guns. Here we go...

Once upon a time, my dad was a mountain man. There are not many things I love more than seeing pictures of my dad with a wild red beard or a bandana on his head. He and his friend Mikey once canoed the entire Yellowstone River from start to finish, just to give you an idea of the severity of their mountain man-ness. Everyone, meet my Dad, circa 1982:

Dad on the left; on the right is Mikey.

Please permit me to state outright and without apology that my dad is a total badass.These guys are some of the manliest men I've ever known. I'm pretty sure they got into legit fights. Again: manly. men.

Right, Dad is the bomb. So is Mikey, who now lives in the Wyoming wilderness and wields chainsaws on a regular basis. Dad and Mikey remain in contact, and a couple years ago, when my dad and brother set off to do the same Yellowstone trip (plus or minus 26 years), they stopped to see Mikey on the way:

Yep, still badasses.

You have to know about Dad and Mikey's adventures, and you have to appreciate their mountain man-ness in order to appreciate what I am about to tell you.

My dad raised me to be an independent young woman; I don't believe I've ever been a "daddy's girl." That said, we have always had a close relationship, and I don't think I will ever know or understand what it did to my dad when I decided to move to Nigeria. Outwardly, he was a rock: he put on a brave face, encouraged me to do this crazy thing, and trusted God for my protection. For that I will always love him.

But the other day, Dad made mention of those weeks prior to my move:

"You know, Mikey told me if anything had happened in Nigeria, he would have gone to find you."

I wish I were kidding, but images of Taken flashed through my head and tears came to my eyes.

As independent as I may be, I am still (on some level) a little girl who wants to be loved and protected. And though my interactions with Mikey have been few, the stories have been many. Mikey is a good man whose word is his bond. If Mikey told my dad he would have come to get me, I believe him. It means a lot to know that I am cared for and protected by good men.

So today I am thankful for the men in my life: men who are like grandfathers, men who are like fathers, men who are like brothers. I am surrounded by godly, protective men, and I am grateful.