A Quote by Bart Millard

My dad would do horrible things to me, but I was so desperate for his affection and his approval that I would keep coming back. — © Bart Millard
My dad would do horrible things to me, but I was so desperate for his affection and his approval that I would keep coming back.
Fights with my father were really quite brutal. I would not live his vision. I would not become who he wanted me to be. Everything I did was criticized. I would spend three months drawing something and show him, and he would look up from his paper and just look back down. I got no approval from him for anything I did that was creative.
I grew up in a house where my father encouraged my brother and me to fail. I specifically remember coming home and saying, 'Dad, Dad, I tried out for this or that and I was horrible,' and he would high-five me and say, 'Way to go.'
I've searched all of my life for approval from my dad who is not around. So if I can get approval by his fans or from peers and critics, it helps me.
If God would concede me His omnipotence for 24 hours, you would see how many changes I would make in the world. But if He gave me His wisdom too, I would leave things as they are.
If I were to save one possession in a fire, it would have to be my dad's camera, an old, broken Nikon. I always keep it with me - his personal things mean a lot.
If we knew that we would meet the Lord tomorrow - through our premature death or through His unexpected coming - what would we do today? What confessions would we make? What practices would we discontinue? What accounts would we settle? What forgivenesses would we extend? What testimonies would we bear? If we would do those things then, why not now?
When my dad went to college to get his master's from Loyola, he was playing Debussy and Chopin and Beethoven. But he played all that New Orleans stuff, too. I would go with my dad to gigs, pick up the piano and the speakers, and I would be like his roadie.
We turned onto the last landing. Going out with this guy, I thought, would involve a lot of silly laughter, some wit--the buzz of his whispered wisecracks in my ear. But there would be as well his willingness to reveal, or more his inability to conceal, that he had been silently rehearsing my name as he climbed the stairs behind me. There would be his willingness to bestow upon me the power to reassure him. He would trust me with his happiness.
My dad came over to the house... went into his pocket and pulled out a handful of money, and began to pass it out to the children... This was the same man who, when I was his child, I would ask him for 50 cents, this man would tell me his life's story.
I feel my dad, I still feel his love, and I still love him. I would do anything to have him back, but half the reason that my life is good, has real, true value, is that he died. I would obviously rather have him alive, but he gave me so much in his death.
I always consult my father before I take on a project. Not just me - even my brother goes to Dad and speaks to him of his business ideas. Dad has an amazing business acumen, and it would be foolish not to take his advice. Plus, he's our dad at the end of the day, and he would want to see us succeed. He always gives us the best advice.
Your woman tells me you will hunt me down and eat my marrow while I live." "Did she?" Charles looked at her, and she saw the approval in his face. She doubted anyone else would have read anything at all. His voice was a caress, just for her. "Would you like that, love?
I remember that my mom, my dad and I would play different roles in mock debates, where one of us would be the moderator, one of us would be my dad - frequently not my dad - and then one of us would play his opponent.
You know, my dad wasn't a photographer or filmmaker by profession, but on Sundays, he would take pictures of me and my family or his pals horseback riding, and it was a means of communication and affection, a means of not being so dysfunctional with each other.
When a man sought knowledge, it would not be long before it could be seen in his humbleness, his sight, upon his tongue and his hands, in his prayer, in his speech and in his disinterest (zuhd) in worldly allurements. And a man would acquire a portion of knowledge and put it into practice, and it would be better for him than the world and all it contains - if he owned it he would give it in exchange for the hereafter.
I didn't know my dad for a long time. My dad was on drugs and my dad was at the VA Hospital, my dad was off in his own world selling drugs or using them or there would be crack heads in the house or whatever it would be.
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