As I sit here in the quiet on Fathers Day, I’m thinking of my own. What do you call your dad? There are lots of names for the man who raises a child or children. For me, being from the South, it has and always will be Daddy, though the occasional “Dad” slips out. Both are terms of endearment because, no matter what I call him, I love him dearly. That’s not enough. I love my father in the deepest part of me, a place I can’t even name.
I know that Daddy loves me. Though he’s not particularly demonstrative, I’ve known my whole life that my father loves me enough to teach me right from wrong, to raise me in the church and to know and love The Lord Jesus Christ. He loves me enough to provide everything I needed growing up to thrive. Now, as a grown-up, he is still providing what I need. He’s the one I call when I don’t know what to do, or when I need something fixed, or when I just want to talk about something on my heart.
I think that’s how God loves us… In that deepest place we can’t even name. He doesn’t mind if we call Him God, Father, Lord, I AM, Abba, Jehovah… He still provides everything we need, and wants to be the One we call on when we don’t know what to do, to fix what’s broken, or when we want to talk about something on our heart. Can we go one step further and be open so God can share what’s on HIS heart with us?
Be still and know that I AM God.