Longing for Daddy

This is a prayer that my friend, Katie, shared with me in an email.  I asked her if I could share it with you and she agreed.  I pray that it will bless you as much as it does me.

I don’t have to ask if You are here; I can feel You close.  You sit just across from me, yet Your presence fills me, fills the room.  Does my face show what I feel inside?  Excitement, fear, joy, awe, love, a million emotions, a million feelings.  Fear, awe, an overwhelming desire–no need– to worship, to praise You.  I tremble at the knowledge that You are close because You are Lord and Master, Creator of the universe, God Most High, King of heaven and earth and I… I am dust, nothing, not even worth mentioning.  I hide my face, avert my eyes, afraid of Your beauty, of Your majesty, of Your perfect holiness.  My face is wet because I am crying.  I don’t even know when the tears started.  I cry because I love You, I long for You even while I tremble in fear.  I long for one touch from Your hand, one word from Your lips…

Should I tell what I really desire, what I really long for?  You see the deepest, most hidden, and closely guarded things of my heart.  Can I hide anything from You?  Can I escape the hand that probes my heart?  Your hand, Your eyes seek the hidden places, the hurt places, the locked doors in my heart.  Can I hide my true desire from You?  Will I survive the telling of so deep a secret?  How will You react?  Anger or acceptance?  Disgust or love?  Do You share my desire?  Do I dare to hope for such a thing?  

I scarcely have courage enough to acknowledge this desire within me.  I have sealed it in the most hidden chamber of my heart.  I have double-barred, chained, and padlocked the door.  The signs on this door say, ” ‘Danger!’ ‘Do Not Enter!’ ‘Keep Out!’ ”  This is the one room that I have continually denied Your Holy Spirit access to.  I know He won’t force His way in because He is a gentleman.  Yet He has focused His patient attention on this room.  I’ve given him access to every piece of my heart He has asked for.  Can’t I keep this one locked and guarded fragment?  Oh God, must He go even there?  I want to give You my whole heart, but I don’t know how to open that door.  The keys to the locks were destroyed a long time ago.

Won’t You even speak to me?  This silence from You is almost more then I can bear.  Look at me!  I am prostrate before You, my face is hidden.  What more do You want?  What question haven’t I asked?  What am I missing?  Please, Lord, help me!

Whose hand is on my head?  I’m afraid to look, afraid to raise my head.  I don’t have to ask if You are here, God.  I still feel You close, but there is some subtle change.  The change has to be in me because You are unchanging. My fear, my feeling of unworthiness no longer consumes me.  I can feel the love and acceptance radiating from You that must have been there all along.  I lift my face, hot and wet from crying, to see Jesus smiling at me.

Jesus.  He showed me the way to the throne of God.  Jesus taught me to call His Father– my Father– Abba… Daddy.  Now He smiles at me and holds out His hand.  Do I trust Him enough to take His hand, to let Him lead me to the door of my secret room?  He smiles and His beauty captures my heart, as it always has.  He is a soothing, calming influence on me.  His gentle hand on my head is familiar.  Being near Him is like being home.  He is all comfort, all love, all safety.  There is no condemnation, no judgment in His eyes, only love and acceptance, because He covers my sin with His blood and makes me pure in His Father’s sight.  He is the mediator, the bridge between God and me.  His blood binds me to God and it is a bond that can never be broken.  If I take His outstretched hand we will face the unspoken desire together.  He will help me give voice to my secret longing.

But…Will You remember that You hold my heart in Your hands?  Will You remember that my heart is fragile?  Will You remember that You are so much stronger than I?   Then I will take Jesus’ offered hand and we will unlock and open the door of this secret compartment of mine.  Let me take a deep breath, close my eyes, and tell You what I really desire, what I really long for…

I long for You, Daddy.  Is that really such a secret thing?  You are my desire.  Can that be so scandalous?  I want to be close to You.  I crave Your presence.  My desire, my longing is so strong it frightens me.  When I am with You I am an adoring little girl with the Daddy she worships.  You are my whole world, no one exists but You and me.  No one could be more in love then we are.  All of my affection, all of my love is lavished on You, the center of my universe.

I think I have heard somewhere that the very thing I long for is scandalous, close to blasphemy, perhaps.  God is supposed to be a mystery, worshipped from afar, maybe kept on a pedestal of some sort.  God could never want my clumsy, stumbling love and affection, even from a heart that adores Him.  God is Father, yes, that is acceptable.  Father is the head of the family, demanding respect, cold, distant, often absent, but providing the basic needs to sustain life.  Yes, God as Father is acceptable.

God as Daddy?  Outrageous!  Shameful!  Daddy is undignified, too familiar a term for God.  Daddy implies a closeness, an affection that is unbefitting the Creator of the universe.  Did I actually hear these words or did I merely sense things from people around me?  Tell me if I presume too much, show me my proper place if it is not as Your adoring, love-struck child.  

Was our relationship ever one of distance or cold formalities?  Were the strong arms that held me at night and the warm voice that spoke to my heart the arms and voice of a distant Father?  Was it a cold formality when I curled up in Your arms, the way I curl up under a blanket on a cold morning, and just told You how much I love You?  I learned to be close to You, to enter Your presence even before I learned my ABC’s.  Talking to You became second nature.  Loving You, spending time with You became as natural (and essential) to me as breathing.

Is there some other, better way for me to worship You?  Have I in some way denied Your holiness?  You taught me no other way!  When they taught me, in church, the structured, formal prayers and strict, unbreakable rules for approaching God they were foreign, frightening, and confusing to me.  I tried approaching You once in the way they taught.  I said all the right things and was very formal and respectful and… completely miserable.  You didn’t turn me away, but, oh, Daddy, I could sense that my change in attitude had hurt You.  When I felt Your hurt I couldn’t keep the pretense and I rushed into Your arms.  How could I have ever thought that something someone taught me could ever be better then what You had already taught me?  You taught me to be close to You, to be affectionate and open with You and I know no other way.

So this desire, this longing I was afraid to put into words is what we have had all along.  Does this closeness I have with You lessen my awe of You, my respect for You?  Have I been too familiar with You?  I think just the opposite is true.  I think the love and affection we have shared (and still share) strengthen my respect and my awe-struck wonder of You… and vice versa.  Take away the love and affection or the respect and awe and some part of our relationship would be weakened, cheapened.  I have completely and totally adored You for as long as I can remember and I don’t know anything else.  I don’t know how to not love You, to not trust You, to not believe in You.  These are the things You taught me, Father.  I never have to ask if You are there, because, even when I can’t feel You, I know You are close.  I love You, Daddy.