Coming to Fullness In The Love Of A Father

                                                      Photo by Jude Beck on Unsplash 

I have father wounds. Welcome to the human race, right? Of God calling Himself father Donald Miller says, “This, in light of the earthly representation of the role, seems a marketing mistake.” So went my childhood. Words spoken in haste. Doors kicked in rage. Hugs never given. Most of all the being away. My father’s issues were birthed in the present but conceived in the past. God is a loving father. To learn this has taken so long because unlearning is a huge part of the process.

Dads’ parents modeled dysfunction. Dad bought it but never owned it. So it was passed down again. The cycle continues or is broken. Faltering, falling flat; I’m a prodigal healed in the hug of the Everlasting father. 

Some of us wrestle to resist the hard wiring we come by. Can we flee pedigree? We want to be like our dad, or we don’t. In a sudden moment we realize it; we’ve responded like dad. This is both blessing and curse. For there are good dads and bad dads and a bunch of in-between. 

Did we get dad’s approval? Our father and the image of our father dictate who we become and who we fight against becoming. A father tells a son he is lazy; he grows up a workaholic. We can spend an entire life trying to please our father; even after he’s buried. The story of the prodigal resonates for a reason. Not because of the return of the son but because of the embrace of the father.

I go whoring and sew seed, running farther and farther from the father. Finding only hunger I come home. Expecting condemnation. Father has prepared a feast; killing the fatted calf. He absorbs the loss I squander. He delights in me; wrapping me up in His hug.  My Father is a safe place; I am sheltered, shielded, secure.

I can come to fullness in the acceptance of a loving (and perfect) father. I am not cowering. He is positively provoking me to be my best. This kind of fatherly love encourages a radical freedom. Even in light of personal failure. This is what I am learning. I hesitate to buy into my image of an earthly father. Conversely the heavenly image of father has me hungering for more of his image in me.

The Taste Of Water

The child drinking from sippy cup to the Guatemalan woman walking miles, we all have experienced it. The taste of water. A stop on the John Muir trail, the first place I remember. Snowmelt. Good water. I liked water from that green garden hose. This was better. Brighter than bottled. How to explain the taste of water? Start with the negative? What water isn’t? Quantify it? Add in cold. We always say, ‘cold and clear.’ Is clear a flavor note?

My uncle built a house in California gold country. Water from a well. Chill water flowing up from rock and river, igneous, slate and marble. Satisfying and creating thirst. You can’t imagine. Unless you’ve gone without, climbed a mountain, chopped a cord of wood, sweat salt-white dripping into your eyes. Now you can taste it. Almost.

The smell of water after it splashes the pavement. Music spills out of courts and corners, tangible and ubiquitous. Thousands coming for the festival; Sukkot, ‘the season of our joy.’ Children scamper, adults meander, wall to wall they fill walkways. On a high point in the courtyard a man stands and cries out, “If anyone is thirsty I will give you drink!”

A crowd forms around the man. Where is his hat for tips? What magic will he do? A mother walks by, father and children in tow; they’re hungry and must be fed. A man from the beach city slows, “Finally repayment for my taxes!” Some come thirsty. That man’s voice cries out again, distinct. The music has hushed. His cry elicits their response, “Oh give us this water!”

Water gives life and water kills. Well water is great but not if it’s high in Chromium-6. River water taste great but may hide Giardia. Water’s flavor depends on where the water comes from. If you get water from a well, it might have a slightly mineral or chalky taste because it’s passed through layers of limestone deep underground. Water will temporarily slake thirst. There’s water that’ll put you together when you’re broken, that gives sight to the blind then splashes out in an everlasting stream. That’s some good water. We are the crowd. We are the entitled. Oh Rabbi, give us this water!