I No Longer Need to Make Believe
LIttle girls and little boys long for their daddy to notice them, to hug them, to want them. They long for the shining love and approval that says, “You matter to me.” “I want you.” “I delight in you.” The shining love of a parent is the foundation of a child’s life. The inner freedom and beauty that is release when we are loved overcomes all trials and sets us free to blossom. When the loving light is hidden, removed, or restricted the child within withers.
In this fallen world, few of us have been given the unconditional love of a father. (And few of us have given this love to our children.)
As an adult I still weep over the loss of my father. He never has shined on me. When I knew him he was reserved, cool, watching my performance. He wanted me to become successful, in his narrow definition. When I chose a different path he said, “I no longer want to have a relationship with you.” He moved and didn’t leave his return address.
So I have been left to make believe: make believe my daddy loves me; make believe he wants me as his own; make believe he will protect me; make believe he’ll provide for me a home.
When Jesus came he said, “I and the Father are One.” He lived his life to show us the love of a father.
Through Jesus, the Father touched the lepers. Those who were untouchable – he touched. I can see his loving face shining on those who no one else would come near as he, without fear and without disgust, laid his hands upon them and made them well.
Through Jesus, the Father gathered the little children to himself, held them, blessed them, and declared them important.
Through Jesus, the Father spoke to the Samaritan woman. His shining love and freedom so startled her she asked, “Do you know who I am?” Not only did he know that she was a Samaritan, he knew her pain, her sin, and he loved her so well that she ran through the town proclaiming his name.
Through Jesus, the Father reached out his hand to the woman caught in adultery. With truth and grace, completely devoid of shame, he defended her. Extending his hand he then helped her up, shining love upon her, setting her free.
Then the unthinkable happened. He died.
In the dark hours of Golgotha the Father taught me the love of a daddy. The Son, one with the Father, walking in perfect relationship with Him through all eternity, cried out “My God, My God why have you forsaken me.” The Father turned his face away.
Jesus knew the pain of a Father who denied Him. He knew the pain of separation that he did not deserve. I cannot imagine the pain and relational ripping in heaven as the Father turned away from His one and only Son.
Why? Why did he do it? He did it for you and for me. In those dark hours when the Father turned his face away from Jesus, he turned to look at you and at me. He turned to call us as His own. In those dark hours the Father said, “Your daddy loves you. I want you as my own. I will protect you. I have made for you a home.”
Now I no longer need to make believe.