I made my obligatory phone call home today, called and asked my dad about his moving progress and wished him a happy fathers day. But today meant something totally different to me.
At lunch time, we all bowed our heads as my brother offered thanks for the food to God, and in that moment my heart said "Happy Fathers day Lord, You've been everything to me this year..." it was sudden, and quick because the regular prayer ended soon with "Amens" agreed upon and hamburger buns beginning to be passed.
A joking discussion even began about it because apparently I wasn't the only one to feel that way because my sis-in-law, Glenda, tagged onto the "Amen" her own "Happy Fathers day". It became a joke around the table, but it wasn't a joke to me and I don't think it was to her either.
There are a lot of people that don't have fathers anymore. Maybe they just aren't in your lives because you don't have a good relationship or perhaps they've passed on - whatever the cause - I want you to know simply this:
God has been my Father.
On those bad days when my heart has broken, I was able to cry on my Fathers shoulder.
On those discouraged days when I didn't want to do what I should, I encountered the unbending will of my Father.
On those happy days when the world just couldn't seem to get any brighter, I was able to simply sit with my Father and tell Him how wonderful everything was.
When I needed a Father, He was there.
I didn't worry about waking Him at 3am, using up His resources when I wasn't sure how my bills would get paid, or that my emotions might make Him do something that He couldn't handle. Even when He didn't make the choices I wish He had made, I know now that He's always made the right ones - no matter how much I pressured Him for a different outcome.
There have been times in my life when I sat in a corner of my house, knees pulled tightly to my chest and my head buried and cried and prayed that some sorrow or fear might go away - and there are times in those moments of my worst brokenness when I had the unmistakable feeling of being held.
I know people that are willing to give up on me, walk away when the going gets rough - but no matter how many times I walked away from Him and waited for Him to let me go - He never did. I even adamantly declared a little over a year ago on this blog that I was DONE, I quit God, NO MORE.
He loved me even then. Oh how He loves me.
Oh how I love Him.
I don't quit. And God knows I'm sure not done.