Every once in a while, a kind elder brother in the Lord will do or say something that recalls to me, ever so vividly, the beauty of that unique feeling of having an earthly, visible father, that feeling that used to be so constant, that feeling that I sometimes miss with longing.
What security, what confidence, a devoted father provides for a daughter! His very presence equals rest, peace, and assurance. He is protective, shielding her from evil; directive, guiding her daily choices; and instructive, bringing her up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
Brought up by such a father, I rarely experienced worry, fear, or stress; but after his death I suddenly had to learn to juggle many new responsibilities, which of themselves were challenging, but without a father’s guidance, weighty and burdensome. I felt lost and confused. I could not trust myself; I know my fleshly nature too well, my selfishness and pride, my laziness and self-indolence. I am so weak, ready to believe all I hear, easily deceived, lacking discernment… Need I go on?
I have been uniquely blessed to have many wise counselors in my life and to them I am very thankful; but I could not single any one out to take my Daddy’s place. I sought for weeks, ever so aimlessly, for someone to fill the gigantic void, someone on whom I could depend to lead me. How painful to realize that not one of the older men I most respected or even all combined could fill the aching void, though I prayed and searched and hoped!
Surely my motive was right. Surely God saw that the desire of my heart was to please Him above all. As I turned in desperation to Him, He opened the eyes of my understanding, shedding light on the darkness of my deception.
“Then opened He their understanding, that they might understand the Scriptures” (Luke 24:45).
Did not HE call Himself the Father to the fatherless? What need had I to rely on fallible man when God had left me such an amazing promise! Finally, completely, I ceased my fruitless search and surrendered to Him my yearning needs that could only be fully satisfied by Himself. I had been needy, foolishly so, like a child refusing to eat the wholesome food placed before him and instead demanding to return to the breast to be nursed again!
I began writing almost daily, and I’m not talking Facebook status updates. I’m talking me, my Bible, my God, and pencil and paper. Instead of rambling to my Daddy each day, I wrote pages of personal reflections of my hopes and disappointments, of my struggles and victories, of the happenings of each day, and of my questions and doubts. It was almost like a way of communicating to my Heavenly Father. How oft, in my effort to express myself clearly, did the Spirit reveal to me the correlations between what seemed to be random, disconnected incidents, but were providentially ordained by God.
Through my daily writing I perceived that, within the very week of my surrender, God poured His love out to me through a man whom I had never consciously met, but of whom my father had spoken highly. This man and his wife embraced my family with a love that could not be explained nor rationalized, apart from the Lord Jesus.
“By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to another” (John 13:35).
Being released from my feelings of emptiness, I could rejoice and delight in this unsought loving care shown so generously to me, smiling and happy, and praising God, and yet continue to be content in its absence. I was free to enjoy, but not depend upon, the attention of others. It was like icing on the cake.
I am blessed to count no less than a dozen wise, older men, dear friends God has placed in my life, who show me love in various little ways that I am so quick to notice. Often they wistfully remind me of the blessings of a father. Perhaps the reminder is in the form of words of praise and affirmation, or of gentle correction, or some teasing comment that makes me smile. Perhaps it is a warm embrace, a hearty smile, loving concern for my happiness and welfare, or any one of the millions of ways a father shows love to a daughter. But these no longer sadden me. I rejoice in them as they illuminate to me so beautifully life-size pictures of what the fatherly love of God is like. They are powerful, memorable lessons of Who is on my side:
“A Father of the fatherless, and a Judge of the widows, is God in His holy habitation” (Psalm 68:5).
"The Lord your God is God of gods, and Lord of lords, a great God, a mighty, and a terrible, which regardeth not persons, nor taketh reward: He doth execute the judgment of the fatherless and widow" (Deuteronomy 10:17-18).
To be sacrificially loved by one esteemed as wise and strong, equals security, rest, peace, assurance, confidence. The feelings that kind of love stirs up in me speaks, ever so loudly, of He who loved me before I was lovable and sacrificed all to have fellowship with me; who protects and cherishes me as a daughter and blesses me indescribably.
God has been so faithful. I’m His girl. What have I to fear? My Father owns the world and controls the very beating of every heart. May I be obedient to Him, fully resting in His care, bold, courageous, and strong, unafraid of man, unafraid of suffering, unafraid of the devil’s schemes.
One day I’d like to marry a God-fearing, upright man who will be such a father to our children that their minds may easily draw a parallel between their earthly and heavenly Fathers, and thus be filled with awe of how God the Father must love them.
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