Reflections on the Father
As I sat before my Father, I was reminded of a vision I had in worship on two different occasions. The following are from my journal entries:
I closed my eyes and saw a baby sleeping in its Father’s arms, completely sinking into him, collapsed, at peace, so trusting…in an absolute state of complete rest and comfort, completely limp in his Father’s arms, utterly folded into Him.
In worship I saw the baby in his Father’s arms again. And though I didn’t see the face of the One holding it, I sensed Him looking over at the baby, checking, watching it sleep, then smiling, perhaps even laughing.
Then I saw all my disappointment, rejection, and hurt – I offered it to Him; it came out of me like liquid falling heavy to the floor beneath me, becoming solid and glossy like marble. Then these huge drops, like giant tears, came and fell on the floor, making it liquid again and it all poured toward this drain in the floor and down the drain until it was gone. Then I held out my hands and said, “All the love I have, I offer to You.” And it poured out of me like liquid – out of my chest, into my hands and it went upward and poured down like rain. And I stood there in this room as my love for Him poured down on me.
(back to the present)
The kind of trust and peace and security that the baby felt in the arms of its Father and the great love the Father had for His child, that’s my relationship with my Father – the deeper I rest in Him and lean into Him, the more He releases me from my fears and insecurity and the freer my heart is to love Him. And He rains that love back down on me.
I’m thankful God’s the only Father I’ve known in that way.