Father

I was in a group of people.  Most I had just met for the first time.  One of the guys had just finished his second glass of wine during halftime of the football game we were watching when he steered his conversation away from football and into psychology.  He began by talking about how he always found psychology class interesting and rattled off some of what he had learned.  Gradually, his discussion about the study of human bonding became a story about his own family.  It was not the first time in my life when I saw a little wine reveal what lies at the depth of a man's heart.

The man telling the story has three young kids.  Soon after his oldest was born, he was deployed and missed much of her first two years of life.  Now he watches his daughter run to her mom, run to her grandfather, but never run to him, her own father.  He laments having missed the crucial time he had to bond with his newborn daughter.  His other kids run to him, respond with excitement when he gets home, but not his daughter.  She respects him, follows his rules, responds to his discipline, but she does not go to him, does not rush into his arms, or climb into his lap.

He blames his deployment.  He explains it with psychology.  Others might say that some kids are just like that- they run to one parent over the other.  Still, I could tell it breaks his heart a little, eats at him a little.

Good fathers love their children.  They want to spend time with them.  They want their daughters and sons to run into their arms- when they are happy, sad, hurt, or sick.  I am sure the man is glad that his daughter runs to good people, but that does not stop him from wanting to be the person she runs to.

After hearing that story, I lay awake praying for that family but also knowing that God's heart breaks when we do not run to him.  If a human father's heart breaks, how much greater does God want us to run to him.

Even when we follow his rules and respond to his discipline, God still says, "but what I really want most is for you to come to me, spend time with me, know me."

Now, when I restlessly make to-do lists and fill my time with tasks rather than sit in prayer or when I text friends and google questions without asking God first, I think about that dad's story.  Sometimes it's difficult to see God as father because I don't physically see him.  Unlike the man's little daughter who runs to her grandfather even though she sees her dad sitting on the other side of the room, I don't literally see God watching me as I run to everyone and everything but him.  But he's there.  And he sees me.  He sees us.  And he loves us more than anyone, and he can give us much more.

We run to a lot of things and people.  But just like a good father, God loved us first, and he loves us most. Whatever you have done, he sees us as his little children, and what he offers is all that is good.