Skip to main content

The Father's Love

In a brief break from studying Robert Browning's Poetry, for my A Level teaching in September, I am inspired to add a second poem. This one was written for a service at church with the theme 'The Father's Love'. If you like it, let me know!


The Father’s Love

 

I want to cry today.

I want the pain and exhaustion of life to go away.

I want to hide under the bed and never come out.

I want to lie on the floor

and throw a tremendous tantrum,

let all the anger, hurt and disappointment out,

in heaving, shuddering sobs.

And God, compassionate Father, gently says,

“I will comfort you,

And turn your mourning into dancing.”

 

I want to be noticed today.

I want the people who ask how I am,

whilst dashing through the nearest doorway,

to stop,

and actually, really care.

I want someone to acknowledge my efforts,

praise me for my progress,

love me for who I am,

understand what is going on in this mixed-up mind.

And God, attentive Father, reminds,

“I see your comings and goings.

I delight over you with singing.”

 

I need to know the future today.

I don’t want my children to be ill, out of sorts,

badly behaved, unemployed.

I want my bank balance to be positive,

to know I can pay the next bill.

I need to be sure there is meaning

in the chaos and craziness of this daily sprint race.

And God, trustworthy Father, declares

“I have a future and a hope for you.”

 

I want to forget the past today.

I want the regrets and disappointment,

the hurts done to and by me,

to fade into the background,

and not keep resurfacing to ruin

my peace, my joy.

I need the monsters in the closet to clear off,

so I can take a break from trying to bar the door,

to stop them from exploding back onto the scene.

I don’t have the energy for that today.

And God, peace-bringing Father affirms, “You are my child,

bought with a price,

set free by the blood of my Son,

and who the Son sets free is free indeed.”

 

I want to dance today.

I want the world to know

that I read my Bible, achieved my goal,

got a glowing report,

repaid a harsh word with kindness,

uncovered a spiritual truth,

did not lose my rag, when my toddler lost his.

And God, adoring Father, whispers, “I am the one,

who brings you into this spacious place.

I deliver you because I am pleased with,

And delight in you.”

 

I am your Father.

Trust me.

I created the universe, yet I know you by name.

Trust me.

I rejoice over you.

Trust me.

I long for you to cry out to me, so I can do

all you need me to do in your life.

Trust me.

I am patient and slow to anger.

Trust me.

I forgive you. I see only Jesus, when I look into your heart.

Trust me.

 

So cry, shout, sob, stamp,

ponder the future, recall the past,

have good days, as well as bad,

but know

that I am in all and through all,

see all, know all,

rejoice over you, as a delighted Father,

who loves you more than you could ever know.

Nothing is impossible for me,

And I am enough for you.

 

G. Tennant

12th July 2013

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Birthday, Dearest Bec

Dearest Bec I can’t believe it’s your birthday and you are not here.  Every year, I rush into town, straight after Christmas, to hit the sales and buy you something you don’t really need – not your fault you were born straight after Christmas and, after all, every girl always needs more earrings, notepads, belts, recipe books.  I can’t even remember what I bought you last year, as it was such an ‘ordinary’ thing – It didn’t feel momentous or unusual, just a sister, giving her little sister her annual birthday gift. How would I have ever guessed it would be the last one I would buy for you? I’m not sure how to cope this week as, instead of eating cake together, we scatter your ashes.  I’m not sure how you continue with normal life, go to work, talk with friends, in a week like this.  I am trying to distract myself with memories filled with you, to remind myself that I will always have these, even if I no longer have you.  So here are my favourite pictures, sifted from the many
4 comments
Read more

Facing Hard Things

All of us, at some point in life, will face hard things.   And by hard, I mean life-sapping, crushing, painful-beyond-imagining, hard things.   At times like these, we can look around at others, feeling bitter and angry that life’s cruel lottery has dealt us this hand and others, one that makes much better reading on Facebook.   I faced a hard thing, when my daughter, Grace, was still born at 25 weeks of pregnancy.   The road I’ve walked since has been one of doubt, hesitancy, small steps, more questions, moving forward, moving backwards, moving forward again and getting to a place of fragile healing. I was not naïve enough to think this would be my lifetime supply of ‘hard things’ and sure enough, more have come knocking – pounding down the door, in fact – in recent weeks.   None of the ‘hard things’ are yet my story to tell; they are bound up and interwoven with the lives of others, whose confidence I will not break.   It will suffice to say they are hard, life-stripping, a
11 comments
Read more

Easter Saturday Living; Waiting for Sunday to Come

Easter Sunday; a strange thought this year. Celebrating the impermanence of death when it feels permanent and heavy right now to those of us left here, in her wake. Celebrating hope, light and victory when those things still feel a long way away on the hard days and the dark days, when grief wraps its bindweed more tightly. Celebrating a God for whom nothing is impossible, yet we did not see our impossible become possible. Joining in with dancing and joy when tears are more my currency. It's easier to face Good Friday. I can relate to a tortured and suffering saviour. He gets it. He's walking it with me. I dwell comfortably in Easter Saturday when hope lay dormant and sadness took hold. I belong with the exhausted disciples and the women overcome with emotion and grief. I'm not at all sure I am ready for Easter Sunday. Dancing, rejoicing, all-things-come-good. I will stand there one day, feeling it more convincingly.  But for now my life is Friday-Saturday
2 comments
Read more