Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. Isaiah 43:1

The Father’s Heart

As I’ve sat down to write these last two weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about the depth of love that flows from the Father’s heart. Someone told me last week that when he sees me lead worship, he sees the light of the father shining down on me. It got me thinking about what it means that God is a Father to us – and how wonderful it is that His love flows through us.

I’ve lived without knowing this love longer than I’ve carried the assurance of it, and the memory of searching and longing and waiting and wandering for a love that could actually heal the deepest pains in me lingers at the forefront of my mind. Not to dwell on it, but to remember the power of the gospel. To remember the why behind the way I live, the way I love, the way I speak. As believers, the gospel is the wind behind our sails. The purpose for everything we do, big and small.

Knowing the Father’s heart – living in constant remembrance of who He is and what Jesus did for us – reminds us of the meaning behind this life we’ve been given. There are so many people who live without realizing the love of the Father is shining down on them. Being lost, and now being found, I’ve realized there is greater depth here in the presence of Jesus than anywhere else. Greater love, greater peace, greater joy (sometimes greater grief and sorrow too). There is greater purpose and meaning here than any other path I’ve found myself on.

It wasn’t until I began to catch glimpses of the reality of God’s love, mercy, grace, and kindness, that I began to grasp His true character. I had a lot of assumptions and ideas about God, but I didn’t actually know Him. As I began to open my heart to discover who God is at His core, I started to see His goodness for myself. My heart softened to the possibility that He was in fact a Good Father, and once I accepted that truth, all the other pieces fell into place for me.

The father-heart of God sits at the center of His being. What pleases Him, and what grieves Him. What moves Him with compassion, what He yearns for. What angers Him. All of of these divine attributes of God come from the outpouring of love and tenderheartedness from His Father-heart. His faithfulness, His hunger for justice, His grace and mercy in our time of need, His provision, His protection, His delight, His righteous anger – they flow from the heart of fatherhood in perfection.

I know associating the title Father with God can stir up painful memories and disappointments for some. I know it can feel hard to reconcile God’s expression of fatherhood if our earthly dad have let us down. If that’s you, I hope you’ll keep reading. That wrestle is a part of my story, too, and I can attest that out of all the things God is, His fatherhood is what rescued me. It delivered me then, and it anchors me now. In fact, being loved perfectly by God helped restore my relationship with my dad too. This doesn’t take away the real pain fragmented relationships can bring, nor does it just magically erase it all from our stories (nor should it). I do believe God can use our deepest heartache for His good and for His glory.

So if that’s your story, for now, my prayer is that your heart would be open to receive God’s perfect love which casts out fear. That you would know His promise of nearness, with you every step of the way, even as you wrestle with what it means that God is a Father.

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Knowing God

God is many things, and there can be no conflict among Him. While we can think of His divine attributes separately, none belong separated from His unitary being. If we are to make sense of His heartbeat, if we are to recognize when things are aligned with His will, I do believe we must know Him as a Father. From this place, He loves, guides, corrects, and rebukes.

From the outpouring of His fatherly love, we’re able to extend mercy, forgiveness, and loving kindness to those who have let us down because it’s what we receive from Him. When we are gifted something we never deserved, mercy and grace more naturally flow from our hearts to those around us because it doesn’t start with us. I tried to do this without God for years – to forgive, to be understanding and merciful – and fell short every single time. God meets us in our time of need, encouraging us to approach his throne of grace with the confidence that his Word never comes back void. This is true even as we seek to grasp His character as our Heavenly Father. We love because he first loved us. We forgive because he first forgave us.

As I’ve been thinking about the father-heart of God, my mind kept wandering back to a memory of a worship night a few years back. It feels like one of my stories of rescue, taking place before I decided to give Jesus my life. This night held a pinnacle moment, one where the winds changed, and my sails were swept homeward.

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You Are Mine

Early on in my walk with the Lord, I was at a worship night with some friends. While these nights had previously been so refreshing and encouraging, there was one night in particular I was having a hard time being present. Something kept nagging at me. I remember feeling so uncomfortable, thinking maybe it was the temperature of the room or the fabric of my sweater. I couldn’t place the source of my discomfort, but almost immediately upon walking outside onto the porch to get some fresh air, I began to sob. My despair hit me like a truck.

It was a particularly rough season of life because I wasn’t speaking to my dad much. I believe both of us were doing our best, but we were struggling. We couldn’t seem to find any hope or common ground. I felt powerless in the situation, so I would just ignore the sadness as my grief came in waves. But that night, God had different plans. I felt a void in my soul so intensely, and had no idea how to remedy it. I felt a wave come over me of missing my dad, and wished for restoration in our relationship. I ached for something he could never properly provide – I longed for perfect love. Unconditional. Relentless.

Trying to make sense of God’s fatherhood was complex, something that felt hard to grasp. Like it was just out of reach and beyond my sight because of my situation. It wasn’t. I just didn’t know where to look.

At the worship night, my friend saw that I was crying and followed me outside. She began praying over me, and the words God spoke as she poured His love out still bring me comfort years later. It was one of those nights where I left knowing nothing would ever be the same.

That night, it was three simple words that made me come undone: you are mine.

A gesture of love. Unconditional, free of proving and striving and earning. Perfect love, driven by compassion and mercy and grace. The kind that casts out fear. Holy love, boundless, relentless, and unafraid of making itself known amidst our wreckage and ruin. That can only come from one Source: our Father in Heaven. I was overwhelmed by His love for me. A love we don’t deserve, that we could never earn, but that we have because we are His Beloved.

You. Are. Mine.

Those words pushed forth through every wall I erected in the name of self-protection and preservation. And I believed Him. My walls were no longer necessary because I finally saw that in the Lord’s presence, I was safe. My lot was held secure. I had an inheritance because of Jesus, and because of the mercy of the cross, I was now invited to sit at the table of the Lord Most High. To be a daughter of the King. God was my refuge and my fortress, and if I sought Him with my whole heart, I would indeed find Him. He was with me through the rivers and the fire and the waters. He still is. And He is with you too.

But now, this is what the Lord says – he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

Isaiah 43:1-2

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Fatherhood in Perfection

Being the Lord’s filled a void I didn’t know was even there. I didn’t realize how deep the longing in me was to belong, and I couldn’t articulate the aching need within me until I stumbled upon the goodness of God. Many times, it feels more like being jolted awake than finding Him by happenstance, but I finally recognized what I was missing when I found the One who could make me whole. When I heard Him speak to me. When He told me I was His, and He was mine.

Through those words God spoke, I realized I was wanted. He didn’t just love me because He had to. He liked me. He delighted in me. He enjoyed my presence and the sound of my voice. He wanted to know me. He was my Father, and He was proud to call me His.

The fatherhood of God rescued me.

It’s what grounds me, and what propels me forward with boldness of faith today. The questions I had drew me in closer, rather than away, from Him once I saw He was not afraid of my doubt and fear. Embracing the invitation to call God Abba Father allowed me to see God the way He always hoped we would. To come to Him like children and to be held in the arms of a loving, perfect, Heavenly Father.

That night, in prayer, the Lord revealed His father-heart to me. He showed me the safety of His presence. The burden of His love. The comfort of His Word and His promise. I would have never been able to know God’s heart for me without knowing Him as a Father. He knows what we need before we even ask.

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Where walls were once erected in my life, hiding me away, God swiftly removed them to make room for stones of remembrance. Trying to make sense of His title of Father was difficult at times. Grasping fatherhood in perfection felt even harder. But, I learned that I didn’t have to have it all figured out to let Him in. He is faithful to reveal Himself to us, and He is patient in the process as we seek Him. Because of our history built, and God’s faithfulness to His word, no longer do I sigh in disbelief that fatherhood is a gift. My soul rests in the awareness of God’s goodness, and the confidence that I have the light of a father shining on me. This is true for you too…Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.*

On that rainy Thursday in an echoey living room of Seattle, a house became a throne room. The Lord met me there, right where I was. I saw the pure love and faithfulness of our Heavenly Father, and it drew me deeper into His arms. I wanted to accept the invitation to be with Him, with the One who called me His. So, I gave God my heart – piece by piece – because I saw that it was safe to do so. No longer withholding my sorrow, my confusion, my despair, I welcomed the embrace of Yahweh. In a moment, everything changed. Walls came crumbling down. Lies were eradicated and replaced with one simple truth: I am His*. You are beloved to Him too. Formed and shaped with intention and intricacy in the likeness of His image. Created for unity with the Father.*

I no longer felt like I had to earn His love, or clean up for Him, or prove my worth to Him. He wanted my heart. My honesty. Jesus wanted to be my friend in the fire. He wanted me to tell Him about the fears, the pain, and the questions I had been withholding from Him as I hid myself away. He met me there, right where I was, and was patient with me.

He showed me what perfect love felt like. He showed me what He means when He calls Himself Father. A Refuge. A Fortress. My Protector. My Comforter. The Source of joy abundant and gladness not based on circumstance. He has been faithful to these divine truths ever since. In His holiness, purity, and love, He remains faithful. Even when prayers go unanswered, and I can’t see the way through, He remains faithful.

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I know what it’s like not to know the goodness of God. To wrestle with His fatherhood. To walk this world without knowing hope eternal. But I can’t say I ever want to go back to that. Being held in the arms of a Father who loves perfectly is a place I can’t help but linger in. It’s where I feel the safest. No matter what burdens we carry, we’re all in need of this kind of love. And, God is the only one faithful to it. His presence changes everything. One day in His courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.

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Coming Home (& Belonging There)

I remember reading and listening to messages, books, etc on God as a Father and feeling so isolated in that season where my relationship felt strained with my earthly dad. So, if thinking about your relationship with your dad brings feelings of loss, heartbreak, grief, confusion, anger, etc, you’re not alone.

Don’t believe for a second your tense, detached, absent, or lost connection to your dad doesn’t grieve God’s heart. That the pain of your loss isn’t a moment where God is filled with compassion toward you. Family is at the center of His design for humanity. Through familial relationships, He desires to draw us into a deeper understanding of who He is. This is why He calls Himself Father, and why Ephesians says we are adopted into sonship with Christ. Family is where we’re meant to flourish. It’s where we’re meant to feel safe, nurtured, and taken care of. They’re relationships that are meant to point back to the goodness and faithfulness of God, not sow seeds of doubt and weariness. But sometimes they do, and that’s very real and very painful.

I see you. I’m with you. And so is God. Your wrestle can be worship.

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Where Are You?

God’s fatherhood confronts some of humanity’s deepest wounds, and holds so many people back from accepting His love. I have a lot of compassion for this. I pray often that what people’s earthly fathers left to be desired becomes an avenue to encounter the One who can fill every need left void in their lives. Maybe this is a prayer for you.

It’s common to be afraid of opening our heart to Him when we’ve been let down before. When someone has broken their promise. When someone who said they loved you also showed through their actions that you weren’t valuable to them. It’s easy to lose faith and rely on your history to gather evidence against God and His goodness if that’s your story.

But the thing about God is, He knows the woundings in our hearts and minds that make it hard for us to run to Him. And He’s not afraid of them. God knew Adam and Eve ate the fruit, and He still called out to them.

Where are you? He said. Where are you? He’s saying now.

God won’t ever make us choose Him. He’ll never force His power, love, and sovereignty onto us. He waits for us to turn our gaze toward Him and incline our ears to hear Him as He calls out. Imagine how it blesses the Father to be chosen by us amidst all the other loves we’re tempted by in this world. When most of us wander through this life never lifting up our voices to Him.

As souls hesitate and hearts stay guarded in the presence of God, I pray His willful nearness and wild love become known and break down the walls that have been erected to keep Him out. I pray God’s fatherhood softens the blow of loss and disappointment from this life. I pray the voices of fear and anxiety go quiet as the still small voice speaks life and peace, that we may come close to Him as He draws near to us.

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God wants each of us to be in relationship with Him; He’ll never stop calling out to us in our wandering and rebellion, saying, where are you? God hopes we’ll choose him, but He waits to be wanted.

Over the last few weeks, these words keep dancing around my mind: God loves when His children come home. I feel the weight of fathers being misrepresented in this world, and us, in our hurting and brokenness, assuming that God is the same when He calls himself one. But He’s not. He is the perfect representation of a Father. He is someone who is faithful to His promise that He will never leave us, nor forsake us. And He isn’t someone who lets us go because He no longer cares. He lets us go because He cares deeply, and wants us to live in freedom (even if we decide to use our freedom in ways that do not please Him).

He is overjoyed when His kids come home, when we use our freedom to choose Him. He loves when every room in His house is full. He loves when his dinner table is filled with presence, laughter, and the chaotic buzz of tables and chairs moving in and out as his children come to his table.

The invitation is to be with God. To sit at his table. To talk, laugh, and cry with Him. To delight in Him as He delights in us. The invitation is to come home. To let our hair, and our guards, down in the Father’s house.

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So, would you come home? Would you accept this love that is freely given through Jesus?

Calling God Father does not negate the muck you have to sift through to embrace that as something beautiful. It’s hard. It’s a pain that cuts really deep. I believe He wants to help you make sense of it all. I believe it’s something He deeply desires to help walk you through. You don’t have to do it on your own.

I believe God wants to show us what it means that He is a Father to us, going before us and hemming us in from behind. Caring for us. Guiding us. Giving us wisdom. Correcting our foolish ways, and showing us the better one. Through His church, I believes He hopes we’ll see what it means to be a part of a family.

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How Do We Respond?

Each of us has a unique story. For some, the truth of God’s fatherhood is hard. For others, it might be a little easier to understand. No matter where we find ourselves along that journey, God is eager to meet with us and show us who He is. Because we have the freedom to choose Him (or not), we have to first say yes to Him.

We have to be willing. We have to ask. We have to seek. Only then will we find.

The good news is, this is an invitation for us every day. Whether we’ve strayed for 20 minutes or 20 years, God wants us to come back to Him.

There are so many ways to respond to the Father-heart of God, and to be active in seeing His kingdom come in this world. In our friendships. In our workplaces. In our families.

Here’s a starting place:

1. Ask.

Ask Him what it means that He is Our Father.

Hold space for your weariness, but stay soft. Allow God to do a new thing and show you the way His heart beats for you. Allow Him to show you what’s different about His heavenliness and perfection in fatherhood.

Receive His love.

Ask Him for help in being merciful toward those who have let you down. Odds are, you and them are doing your best, and we are all in need of the grace and mercy Jesus offers.

2. Surrender.

Take the hope you have, and bring it to Jesus. Ask Him to multiply it, and show you what it looks like to embrace His living hope.

Bring your questions, and your doubts. Be honest with him, and know that the ears that are listening to your cries for help see you as a son or daughter. Bring the guilt, shame, and pain you carry, and tell Him all about it.

3. Pray.

Prayer is how we find Him. So, pray as you can. Talk to Jesus like a friend, with authentic expression and candor of the thoughts and questions that linger in your heart. Tyler Staton said, The only way you can get prayer wrong is if you try to get it right.

4. Wait.

Be expectant. Believe the prayers you pray will come to pass. Trust the One who’s listening. Wait for restoration and healing – God is a Good Father, and while often the stories He weaves together turn out differently than we thought they would, reconciliation is the gospel. Believe He can use the same power to breathe new life into your family.

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Jesus Changes Everything

Because of Jesus, we know the way to the Father. Let His presence change everything. He changes everything.

There’s a lot of things that can offer the illusion that we are separated from the love of God. We’re not. He is a God who draws near. Seek Him with your whole heart, and you will find Him.

No matter what burdens we carry, may we have the faith to believe our Father is kind.

May we seek Him with all that we have.

May we know Him for all that He is.

May we dwell in the house of the Lord for all the days of our lives, and know that He is good.

May His presence empower us to shine the light of the Father unto the lost.