Daddy came running

It happened late one night as we slumbered peacefully in our beds.  In the dreaming hours, a scream of sheer terror shattered the dark.  I jolted awake, ripped from sleep, as my husband leapt up, throwing the covers back, and headed up the stairs toward the source of the cry.

There he was, standing in his bed, shaking, stammering, and crying.  It was Little.  Something (a bad dream, perhaps?) had awakened him.  He was alone, Tiny Boy, with the big brother (Boy Three) that usually shares his room, next door with Boy Two.  Stricken by fear there in the dark, he called for help in the instinctive way of a child.  And Daddy came running.

It was that very truth that gripped me.  “His father came.”

Big, strong Daddy, the man who tickles him and “gets him;” the fellow that clothes him and buckles him in and takes him up to the office on Mama’s writing days; the father with whom he shares popcorn in the evening; this faithful man came to the rescue.  He picked him up, took him potty, calmed him down, and fetched Big Brother from a sound sleep, installing him back in their room for comfort’s sake.

Daddy came.

How much more, my friend,  is this true of Abba Father!  In the soul’s dark night, in desert days, in loneliness and solitude, in the battle’s heat, He comes.  Needing not to be begged and coerced, He stands ready, listening for the faintest cry.  And He comes.

“I watch in hope for the Lord.  I wait for God my Saviour.  My God will hear me,” the prophet Micah said.  “The Lord will hear when I call,” the shepherd boy added.

What a refuge we have, we who know the living Christ.  What a help in time of trouble is He!  You know what’s required, don’t you?  Just lift your eyes, call His name, and He will come for you.

“I love the Lord, for He heard my voice.  He heard my cry for mercy.  Because He turned His ear to me, I will call on Him as long as I live.”  – Psalm 116:1