On Fathers

As a young girl, my family took many trips and vacations together. We would arrive somewhere and the family would begin climbing out of the van. No matter where we were, no matter what we were going to do, I would run up to my dad, grab his hand, and say, “Guess who?!” He never needed to guess, because he always knew it would be me.  We would wander around the museum, or park, or down the beach, and my small hand would stay in the strong, calloused hand of my father.  

 

Now that I am grown, I imagine my Heavenly Father often in terms of my relationship with my dad.  I imagine running up to Him, grabbing His hand, and calling out, “Guess who?” And, of course, my omniscient Heavenly Father does not need to guess, but I imagine the delight that it brings to His heart when I come running. We walk side by side through life, my small hand in His strong one.  

 

For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand;

 it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I am the one who helps you.” 

Isaiah 41:13