My Father Sings Over Me

I've told you before that one of my favorite things to see is dads who are in love with their little girls. The end of Sam's story, remember? You said it was cute. Anyways, I love to watch them together, whether it's a dad sitting across from his 8-year-old daughter at the Indian restaurant or the two following each other down aisles at Barnes&Noble.

Listening to the radio this morning got me thinking about what a great Dad God is and how amazing it is that He is our Father. Susan was talking about all the things we are to Him - precious, friend, beautiful, adopted, beloved, chosen, favored, the list goes on. He takes delight in us, rejoices over us with singing. And His pursuit of us is relentless and active. All around, if we look, the evidence screams that He wants us to know in our heart these things and wants a relationship with us.

Even when we're rotten kids, when I'm a rotten kid. When I'm a spoiled little brat and throw a huge tantrum and slam doors in a fit of rage and frustration and disappointment, He still calls me His precious daughter. Even when I give Him the silent treatment, He still loves me. And no matter what I do, what foolishness I get into, He tells me everyday.

EVERYDAY.

I still upset Him, I'm sure. I do things that bug the crap out of Him, frustrate Him to no end, disappoint Him. But that doesn't change who He says I am or who I am to Him. I think if He were human, He might have disowned me by now.

Maybe He sings different songs on different days, depending on how we're doing, how things are going between us. If we're stressed out and busy, maybe He sings to us to be quiet now and rest. If we're distant and doubting, upset and hurting, maybe He sings that He's always loved us and always will, that we belong to Him apart from the things we do, that He is near.

Even if we've had an argument and I've gone to bed angry, I am so glad He still comes to the door, looks in on me and softly sings.

Me singing today: Broken in two, Lord I know You're on to me, that I only come home when I'm so all alone, but I do believe. And not everything is gonna be the way you think it ought to be. It seems like every time I try to make it right it all comes down on me. Please say honestly You won't give up on me, and I shall believe.

Talk to you soon, friend.