The Love of a Father

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.

My Daddy's Going Home Celebration, Part 2

Click here for Part 1. 

[ORIGINALLY WRITTEN ON OCTOBER 14, 2009] 

"We have heard and known, and our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, showing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and His strength, and His wonderful works that He hath done. For He hath established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which He commanded our fathers, that they should make them known to their children: that the generation to come might know them, even the children which should be born; who should arise and declare them to their children: that they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep His commandments” (Psalm 78:3-7).

My daddy obeyed this command. Daily did he make known to us children God’s law, His works, and His testimonies. Some of my daddy’s last words were, “Devil, you might can kill me, but I have five [sons] more behind me and you can’t touch them.” My daddy knew from the beginning that this was a direct attack from Satan trying to kill him. And he fought that devil; oh, my daddy was such a fighter! And, praise God, the battle is not lost. Even if my daddy did not live to see what will one day be numerous grandchildren, his children will be faithful to show God’s works the next generation, even to those yet unborn. My daddy gave his life for us children, and we will give our lives back to him by standing for those things he stood for. We will continue to fight his battles, and we will be victorious. Many fights take more than a generation to win, and my daddy has been faithfully equipping and preparing his children to fight the battles of the Lord.

Just a week ago, I wrote a short “About Me” statement here on Facebook. It says, 

“I am, first and foremost, a daughter of the King. I strive to show my loyalty to my heavenly Father through my devotion to the earthly parents to whom He has entrusted me. The Holy Scriptures call children arrows in the hands of a mighty man (Psalm 127). I am a yielded arrow under the sharpening hands of my father and mother. When my brothers, sister, and I are finally released into battle, I pray that our impact will reach farther than arrows, and instead have the force of intercontinental ballistic missiles! Hoping to one day raise up my own army of children for the Lord, I pray that the saints of God everywhere will embrace the blessings of children, being fruitful, increasing abundantly, multiplying, and waxing exceeding mighty, that the earth may be filled with them (Exodus 1:7)."

What long talks I often had with my daddy! He was so faithful to sharpen me - his arrow - for battle. I would bring my thoughts, theories, and convictions to him before I would take them to anyone else. He was always so gentle to point out to me why some of the things I would say were wrong. Other things I would say he would jump all over, add his wisdom to it, and then tell his friends. That’s when I knew I had something I could share with others. These conversations have sharpened me more than anything else.

"Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations: ask thy father, and he will show thee; thy elders, and they will tell thee" (Deuteronomy 32:7).

About two weeks ago, my brother Joshua and I were having one of our typical theory-developing conversations about how much one can learn from listening to the conversation of older and wiser men, or more specifically, to our daddy. It was then I had one of my “what if” moments. What if several young men took the time to walk and talk with the wisest men of our time? The Bible says, “He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed” (Proverbs 13:20). Before many years pass, these younger men will have gained nearly as much wisdom as took these older men a lifetime. Granted, they will not yet have the experience, but the wisdom will be there. Fast forward several decades. Then, with these same young men now being older, wiser – yea, much wiser than the men before them - what if they likewise took the time to pass to several young men from the next generation the wisdom they have attained? What if this took place all over the country over several generations?

Well, my “what ifs” have actually happened. I have always been fascinated by the writings of our Founding Fathers. These men had a knowledge of the Bible, history, and all subjects in general, that I don’t see paralleled today, even though many of those same men had merely a few months of formal schooling. Their wisdom was the direct result of generations of wisdom being passed down through one generation to the next, each generation being wiser than the one before.

But allow me to tell you another “what if” story. What if young men had no interest in learning from their elders? What if they chose to learn everything the hardest way – firsthand experience. As they age, they, too, would grow in wisdom; however, what if the cycle continued? What if the next generation again wanted nothing to do with their elders, whose wisdom is buried with them? What if this took place all over the country over several generations?

Again, the “what ifs” are true, and we are seeing them unfold right before our very eyes. But, like I said before, my daddy was faithful to declare the works of the Lord to his children, and not just my daddy. We have countess men and women who have traveled the same paths before us. Several, having conquered the numerous temptations along the way, have left markers, testimonies of the truths they learned through their struggles and victories, to encourage those who come after to press on.

What a shame that we so often fail in the very battles that our fathers have already conquered! We need to give diligent heed to God’s works in the lives of our fathers and should be prepared, not only to conquer the same temptations they did, but to focus our energies on further conquest.

May we not be the stubborn and rebellious generation the Bible talks of:

“A generation that set not their heart aright, and whose spirit was not steadfast with God… They kept not the covenant of God, and refused to walk in His law; and forgot His works, and His wonders that He had shown them. Marvelous things did He in the sight of their fathers, in the land of Egypt. He divided the sea, and caused them to pass through; and He made the waters to stand as an heap” (Psalm 78:8-13).

The Lord is the Source of all joy. Material possessions may bring temporary happiness, but they don’t bring that incomparable, fulfilling joy of the Lord that comes from putting your faith and trust in God, yielding your life to His control. How can you be miserable one day and the very next full of unspeakable joy when nothing whatsoever has changed in your circumstances? The difference is your trust in God. Like an innocent child, you can have no fear of the future. You can be filled with joy, regardless of circumstances. Don’t you just love that joyous feeling when you’re out somewhere, full of joy, wanting the world to know of your happiness? You know, that light-hearted, little-girl-like, skipping step, with head raised high, face aglow with smiles, and you’re having to refrain yourself from whistling some merry tune?

"The joy of the Lord is our strength!" 

My Daddy's Going Home Celebration, Part 1

It was suggested that my siblings and I speak at our father’s funeral. I unhesitantly agreed to do so, for how I could refuse this opportunity to rise up and call my father blessed, to praise him also, and in so doing glorify my Heavenly Father, who commands children to honor their parents?

Utterly exhausted from my night watch the eve before, that night I lay down and slept very soundly; but in the early hours of the morning I unwontedly awoke, and all the events of the day before filled my mind. You would think that at such a time all I would experience is anguish and hopelessness, but God – oh, how gracious He is and full of compassion! – began bringing numerous things to my remembrance, a little incident here, a word spoken there, decisions made great and small, all that revealed to me of how He knew beforehand and was preparing me for this time, even when I knew it not nor expected it.

Oh, yes, so very many things that I cannot recall them all! Eventually I felt compelled to get up while I had them all so clear in my mind and begin composing what I would say. But the written words just wouldn’t come. I thought and typed and backspaced. I had no idea of what to say; my thoughts were jumbled; clarity and conciseness had escaped me. 

We were staying at my older brother's house, and I wished myself at home where surely I could find something I already written to give me some inspiration. Ah, Facebook! I logged into my week-old account, where I had already posted a few “Notes.” 

Aside from two new paragraphs and some editing, I drew entirely from things I had posted online just days before. I still cannot believe how it came together. My God is amazing! 

“O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding out!” (Romans 11:33).

However, my biggest concern was, “Will I really be able to say all of this without choking on tears or perhaps even breaking down in sobs?” Even as I was writing it, I had hardly been able to focus on the screen because of my unceasing flow of tears. But I wanted to say it all; I felt that it was what God would have me to say.

I consulted my older brother, asking him to read it; he said it would indeed be impossible. Ah, perhaps I could film myself speaking and show it on the projector? The next afternoon when I finally had some time to do so, I took myself outdoors with a tripod. The video looked awful; my red, tear-stained face looked awful. Still, from running through the printed page a few times, I almost knew it well enough to speak it word-for-word.

That night I received some much-needed encouragement from some dear friends who had experienced the loss of close family. Both strongly assured me that I would definitely be able. It was a relief.

I look back at the wake and then the funeral with unexplainable delight and joy. All those things that God brought to my remembrance that night, plus others that He had shown my friends and family, were bits and pieces of a wonderful testimony that I shared with every person I spoke to. There were over seven hundred people who came to the wake, I am told, and I tried to talk to every single one. I am naturally quiet and reserved in large crowds, but I completely lost myself and all self-consciousness in my desire to give praise to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with a strong earthly father. It was an amazing feeling. 

I was very hoarse afterward, another obstacle to sharing the speech I had put together. It was awful to have so much to say and no voice to say it with. It’s funny to think now of such little, insignificant things, but I drank lots of lemon and honey and gargled lots of salt water in order to be able to even enunciate with any kind of clarity.

But not one tear broke my voice, nor the slightest bit of nervousness interfered. I shared with unwonted boldness all that I had written. It was a testimony in the weeks to come, as person after person came up to me and said how very blessed they had been by my speech. I can’t take credit for it, not even an ounce, for it was undeniably God’s work and not my own.

I thank God for counting my family worthy to be entrusted with such a testimony as we have.

I’ll post the speech tomorrow.

Click here for Part 2.

Remembering the Works of God, Part 1

A year: three hundred sixty-five risings of the sun; fifty-two meetings of precious fellowship with the Body of Christ; the round of holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries… What great things can be accomplished in a year!

But of all things I could have resolved to accomplish this year, I chose to read the Psalms every day. You’d think a book read daily would get old by September, but can I tell you I find more delight than ever in drinking from them each day! They are inexhaustibly refreshing! I want to know them, I want to memorize them, I want them to be in my heart and on my tongue. Such a shame that they are no longer included in our public worship, as they were exclusively centuries ago.

Today I read Psalm 105:

“Remember His marvelous works that He hath done; His wonders, and the judgments of His mouth… He hath remembered His covenant forever, the word which He commanded to a thousand generations” (Psalm 105:5, 8).

Wow! This was an astonishing revelation: We expect God to remember and fulfill to us the promises He made 2,000 years ago, but we do not remember the works He did for us last week!

What importance this attaches to documenting the God’s works throughout the course of our lives. Today I examined both Psalm 78 and 105 with new eyes, asking, “If God wrote a tale of His works in my life, of my unbelief, lust, and pride, and of the grace and mercy with which He worked all things for my good, what would it say?” Someday I'd love to take the time to look back and consider the turning points of my life, the circumstances surrounding them, my heart and my attitude, and tie all together for God’s glory, writing it out in the style of these two Psalms.

As the first anniversary of that precious day (Psalm 116:15) my father ended his pilgrim journey draws nigh, I find myself reflecting on this past year, my first year without Daddy. To think I may live forty or fifty years more without him… that’s a hard thought. That’s why it’s so important for me to remember. I was just thinking tonight on the way home from church, of how I thank God for the long ride because of the unforgettable conversations I had with Daddy every time we rode together.

I love to go back and read the truths God was revealing to me in the weeks that followed us facing the death of husband, father, protector, provider, and head of the home. In such times, priorities are much clearer to us than during the daily grind of life. God can teach to me more in a day through hurt and tears than I can learn alone through years of studying. I will soon be sharing here* on my blog some of the things I wrote during that time.

*To read, click these links: Oct. 14, Oct. 23, Nov. 4, Nov. 9, Nov. 29, and Dec. 7.