I have a Father

It happened again one morning on my way home in the quiet van. I was coming back from dropping off the sophomore and picking up some fruit (okay, and a Starbucks white chocolate mocha) at Martin’s. I was starting to pray through the Lord’s Prayer, beginning with “My Father, which art in Heaven…” and I stopped.

“My Father.”

My Father never leaves. He never abandons. He cares for me. Looks out for me. He’s the Father of my children; my husband, too, and His loving care extends to them.

He knows me. He seeks me. He comes for me. He fights for me. He delivers me. Not only that, but He offered His most precious thing for my adoption. That’s the length to which He will go.

What a blessed thing, retreating to the “closet” and there, finding the Father.

Throughout the summer, as a I would pick up a worry and let it fill my mind, I would hear these words, “But I have a Father.”

Oh. Yes. That is what’s true. My Father knows what to do, and He has not only the power, but all the provision I need to take care of it.

I’m not an orphan because, you see, I have a Father.

And so do you. You have a Father.

In that, you can rest.