Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Frank Turk at Pyromaniacs tells the following story—
There was a young man -- a doctor -- who was sent off to war, and he left behind a young wife and a 7-month-old baby girl. He was away at the war for two years, and was faithful to his wife. In writing to her frequently, he sent back a portrait of himself to her and the baby as a promise that he would return home soon.
He returned two years later, and the baby was now a toddler who didn't know him. In fact, in some ways she didn't want him in their house. He was a stranger, and he didn't belong. She only knew the portrait.
One Saturday the young doctor was sitting on the couch reading the paper when the toddler got up from her bed and slowly came down the stairs. He didn't want to antagonize her, so he just sat and read, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She started in the kitchen, then the dining room, then came into the living room sort of watching him, sizing him up. She came to the other end of the sofa, and then pointed at the portrait.
"That's my daddy. Some day he's coming home," she said, looking at the portrait.
He lowered the paper, and looked at her -- both bursting with pride at her confidence and aching on the inside from her ignorance.
She looked at him again, and pointed at the portrait. "That's my daddy," she said certainly, and looked straight at the young doctor.
Then there was a curious silence as her face changed.
"You're my daddy," she said breathlessly.
There are many in “God’s family” who have a “portrait” (Bible) of our Heavenly Father. Their sense of connection is distant, limited to a few stories about Father and a vague hope of His return. Someday He will be present in our home again.
Meanwhile, God the Father is present in the home and all around yet He appears as a stranger to us that we do not trust nor feel comfortable around.
A miracle recorded in 2 Kings 6:17 tells of a man whose eyes were opened so that he could see the God who was already present. That is my prayer for us today.