Doubtless Thou art my Father

My prayer life has been inconsistent lately. I can’t help but wonder at the last time I uttered speech to God privately. My old prayer journal lies tucked away-lifeless-forgotten as a dream. I don’t even want to look at it, because for some reason, it makes me feel guilty. Tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day of new mercies. Maybe I need crisp pages of white on which to ink. A fresh start. A new beginning for this new place. It’s ok its almost April. Just begin. That’s all God asks of me. He doesn’t despise the small things.

I swerve a little too quickly into the bookstore parking lot. If I was more caring, I might straighten my vehicle out. But not everything has to be a perfect thing. I gather my baby, who is really all toddler turning into little girl. I nestle her head snugly into my shoulder, warding off the wind that is biting at her cheeks. I grasp my 5-year-old by the hand, wishing this last year could have been less busy. I had plans, you see. Plans to read her Bible stories and recite songs of Jesus’s love that would be etched into her memory. I had plans to work on her speech, help her trace letters and numbers, and give her quality time before she leaves for kindergarten where she will move on to bigger things. But here we are. It’s the beginning of spring, and she hasn’t stopped blossoming throughout my inconsistencies. And I can’t get back yesterday or the ten minutes ago when I was in a hurry. Slow down little ones. Slow down…it’s all too fast. Let’s make this last. Hold my hand tightly…I need you just as much as you need me. I’m sorry for my failings. I hear an inward tug remind me, “Cherith, it’s ok you’re not perfect…it just matters that you’re trying. There’s no such thing as a perfect thing.”

We walk in to dozens of books and toys waiting to be touched by toddler curiosity. The notebooks catch my eye. They are the sole reason I came. A floral bound journal meets my gaze. “Be Still and Know,” is etched gracefully atop maroon and cream flowers in gold lettering. Elegant in so many ways. Even though the verse might be overused at times, it suits me. The need to be still is just what my heart needs.

The next morning, my hand hovers over a bare page. I hesitate just briefly before ballpoint pen kisses the first sheet. I begin with a phrase that I once heard preached, and since then has stuck with me. “Father, doubtless Thou art my Father.” (Isaiah 63:16) If I’m being honest, I write the words because for as long as I can remember, I have struggled to view God properly. Sure, I have stood far back, surveying His awful majesty. Sure, I have read of Him being the Alpha and Omega…the One to whom belongs all glory. But I have oft struggled to believe that the title “Father” could be a name I could call Him so personally.

Day 2 in my new prayer journal addresses God in the same way as the day before. “Father, doubtless Thou art my Father.” Apparently, it’s something I think I need to trace again in order to believe.

Days 3 and 4 come and I find myself writing “doubtless” yet again. Because if I write it, then maybe the doubts and fears I have fought from my youth will continue to fade from me. I think I will continue to approach God as Abba at the opening of every day. Because God tells us to come to Him boldly, and Jesus teaches us to pray this way. So, I say it out loud this time, knowing that if I only stand back from God in dreaded fear, then I will never fully understand Him as a God who fully hears. “Abba, doubtless Thou art Abba to me.”

April 4, 2024. “Father, doubtless Thou art my Father.” My penning ceases. For it dawns on me that it has been 2 years since I began sharing my thoughts for others to read. I can still recall that Easter Sunday vividly-how it placed a newfound hope in me, even though a small piece of me was terrified of being known so vulnerably. It was that afternoon that my dearest friend asked, “Why don’t you start a blog?” I had thought he was crazy, but I think in the moment he knew better than me. He knew my heart’s terrain and how it’s plains longed for more transparency. And that perhaps this could be an opportunity. I wasn’t sure what in the world I was doing, or what would become of it, but I followed my gut and his encouragement into an unknown territory.

I continue with my petition on paper …April 4, 2024- “Father, doubtless Thou art my Father. I tend to back away from Thee in terror of Thy supremacy. It doesn’t seem lofty for Thee to love sinners who dress themselves in ashes and who are so very weak. It doesn’t always make sense to my finite frailty. But as I continue to pilgrim through this life, there are times I become more aware that being a Father to the vulnerable only adds to what makes Thee almighty. You give faith from above that settles my wanderings…faith that reminds me that the unexpected doesn’t make sense kind of love You give is the most beautiful thing. And it makes Thee most splendid indeed...

…As Good Friday approaches, cause me to breathe in Thy servant’s suffering. How He went into the depths of hell, wearing agony as His only covering. I see it, Lord. How He cut all ties with mother, brethren, disciples, and even Father, so I can call on Thee. I hear it, Lord. How He cried out not “Father!” but rather “My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” I feel it, Lord. The burden of sin, rejection, and anguish lifted off my shoulders for Him to carry. I feel the beauty for ashes He draped over me. I taste it Lord…sweet victory. And so, I will confess Lord, through all my anxieties, “Father, because Thy Son purchased me, doubtless, Father, is who You are to me.

…Lord I thank Thee for giving me this unexpected blog to express my hearts victories and valleys. It began as a prayer that maybe I could bring translucency to some of life’s ridges, because the raw parts of life have always been the places I have fought to believe were good enough to be part of the redemption story. It was a pursuit for a realness I was aching for deeply. It came after an unexpected season I loathed in the moment but would soon perceive You were using to shape me. But mostly, deciding to start this blog began with a realization that setting my feelings to ink helps me embrace the emotions You gave me as a true blessing. Since this journey began, I have come to understand that what I started out for myself has put me on a path with so many more suffering. So, I Thank Thee for this unexpected gift Lord that has put me into contact with other brothers and sisters who also call Thee “Father.” For they are teaching, encouraging, and growing me. Thank Thee for drawing me closer to Thee as daughter and forgiving my sins. Through Thy Son’s name alone, amen.”

Sometimes the most beautiful things in life are those things that catch us unexpectedly. Although they burst forth unawares, they fill us with fullness and cheer. It’s there in the sight of a breathtaking sunset that stretches across the heavens amid a mid-summer breeze. Or in the splashes of rainbow that paint promises of God’s friendship after a fresh pour of rain. I see it sprinkled in the farmer’s fields that will eventually birth plenty. Other times it comes in tokens of friendship that are small but hold so much meaning. Perhaps it’s in the meeting of your spouse that you could never have imagined or dreamed. It’s there in his eyes as he tells you he loves you, and you think, “Even after all these years…after all these ups and downs…How did I get so lucky?...Why did he pick me?” It’s there in the first giggles a baby spills, and it’s in the bickering of children that gives way to sincere apologies. It’s when your people see you drowning and they pitch in behind the scenes. I hear it in the voice of my boy when he gathers me into his growing arms to tells me I’m the best mom in the world…erasing some of my failings. It’s when my daughters pull me into their emotions to share in their feelings. It’s in the dawn of a new morning that breaks open new mercies. It’s in the chirp of the swallow that stops you in your tracks because it reminds you that if God so cares for the sparrow, He must also care for you and me. It’s in the devotions you are pursuing over that cup of coffee-that sudden understanding of the Bible’s history from a different angle-and it’s inspiring. It’s the wonder of the gospel that you see lived out daily. And even though I don’t know where this blog will continue to take me, for now it has been that kind of a beautiful and unexpected thing that has helped me stand in awe of God’s glory as it has drawn me into communion with both Him and His sheep I love deeply. The truth is, this awesome beauty is in everything, if we would just open our eyes to see. Doubtless, His Love is a unique and marvelous mystery.