lessons from a father

For some reason, Pink has been giving her daddy a really hard time for a few months now. She loves and adores him, she needs him, and she misses him when he's gone. But at least a couple times a week (or a couple times a day), she refuses to talk to him, touch him, or even look at him. This might go on for a few seconds or for over an hour.

He feels crushed inside. He pursues his daughter, his beloved little girl, the apple of his eye, and he is flaty rejected. Sometimes she's rather indifferent. Sometimes she's just plain mean. I did this to my dad, too, at this age. I tell Beloved that, but it doesn't lessen the sting.

It occurred to me today, though, that Pink bears a striking resemblence to the modern-day me, not just the two-year-old me. Doesn't God pursue me relentlessly? Doesn't he seek after me every day because he loves me and is passionate about me? Don't I turn away sometimes, not in anger or because I don't like him, but because there is something that catches my attention at the moment? Don't I ignore his beckoning at times? Haven't I had times in my past when I consciously walked away because I specifically didn't want to be with him?

If you have a daughter who is pursued by your beloved, then you know the heartache that comes with rejection (I speak only of daughters because that's all I know; could quite easily be the same way with sons). You've watched his face fall. Even if he recovers quickly and remains calm and loving, you see your husband's eyes wish she wouldn't turn from him.

Encourage him as he demonstrates God's pursuit of her, teaching her how very loved she is. What a high calling!

I'm off to lift up my husband. But first I'm going to my Father to ask for more grace, that I might never casually ignore him or turn from him even for a moment.