A Father's Love

I've always had a hard time relating to God as a parent.  Not because I had bad earthly parents.  On the contrary, I have loving, amazing parents.  Parents that have helped me grow into the woman I have become and am still becoming.  But somehow I was missing a piece to the puzzle of what it really meant for God to be my Father. 

I've been working through a Beth Moore study called "Living Beyond Yourself: Exploring the Fruit of the Spirit."  Today's passage was on the kindness of God.  Hosea 11: 1-4 says,

"When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.  But the more I called Israel, the further they went from me.  They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images.  It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them.  I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them."

When I read this passage I can see clearly for the first time what God as Father means.  I can picture Him teaching me to walk, holding my hands, my arms upraised to keep my balance.  Slow tentative steps as He gently encourages and guides.  Clapping when I take a step on my own.  And smiling when I fall down and come racing back to Him to try one more time.  I can see the pride in His eyes as I slowly "get it."  As I'm able to start ambling across the room on my own.  And the joy it fills Him with when I continue to run back to Him with a wide grin, not ready to leave His side. 

I can see it clearly now, like I've never been able to before.  The image of my husband and son playing over and over in my mind.  My husband taught my son to walk.  He was so excited for him to walk that he started early, and at ten and a half months our son was walking all on his own.  Every morning and every evening they would practice.  When they arrived at daycare our son would sit on his daddy's feet, back to him, arms lifted high, waiting for him to grab hold so they could wander around the room over and over and over again.  Will (my husband) never wearied of this "game."  He took such joy in seeing Logan's accomplishments.  And he is rewarded every time Logan now "runs" to him, arms stretched wide, smile beaming, racing to the father who loves and cares and teaches him. 

It's an amazing love, this Father love.  A love I don't think I ever fully grasped until now.