Um, I would have to agree.
I always just thought that God was the strong, silent type, just like my dad. God is strong. He doesn't 'talk'. His Word is complete. If His response to my need is covered in there (and it is), then He doesn't have any reason to talk out loud unless there is something really significant going on (like parting the Red Sea).
About 15 years ago, I was seeing a professional counselor about family issues, chiefly those having to do with my mom, but somehow or other we ended up with my dad. The doc cautioned me strongly that my view of my dad was one I had kind of built up in my head...I knew what he meant, because I saw my dad as a cowboy and not a oilfield roughneck and heavy equipment operator. He raised wheat and cattle and wore cowboy boots every day. He was the strong silent type. Cowboy. Right?
I didn't get what the counselor was talking about, until April.
I got on Facebook (yeah, I do blame Facebook).. I asked my dad's wife to be my friend and she accepted. A couple of weeks later, I left a comment on one of her photos that would have been understood as my attempt at humor by anyone who knew me, intended to start a conversation over a unique interest of hers. Her daughter, with whom I have had perhaps three conversations, reamed me.
I called my dad (because after all the internet had clearly caused a malfunction comparable with Janet's wardrobe one. Not loving progress, people.). I told him really fast(I was in hysterics) that I understand I am not around too much, but that this stranger's comments were based on a view of me she had built up in her head, but that had nothing to do with me as a person(wait, where have I heard that before). She seemed to think that I didn't want a relationship with my dad. She also made a point about how satisfying and fulfilling their relationship is and how much they enjoy him and how healthy his and his wife's relationship is. I told him I understand how it's possible he would find such good relationships that he wouldn't really need one with me (but maybe he could curb his people. Or gee, something).
I finally shut up and he said...
Before I went to bed that night, God had moved in and impressed on my heart, that He is Father to the Fatherless. I accepted that, and since I see Him as "the strong silent type", I went on my way with that assurance.
A week or two ago, I asked Him to show me His love in a special way as I have heard other's testimonies about a special moment just for them(such as that of Stasi Eldredge shared in the book Captivating). Then I forgot about it. Life got super busy and I wasn't taking time to look and listen if He did. 'Cause I knew I would know.
Today is Father's Day.
Every Sunday in our church, we are led to communion at the Lord's Table by a reliable teacher who can choose a theme to bring us around to the infinite love of God and Christ expressed in the resurrection and it symbolism in the bread and cup. Today's leader was a man named, conveniently for his anonymity, Jon. He is a father and he talked about the Fatherhood of God.
Jon is a man who studies, makes an outline, writes down what he means to say and doesn't ramble; fortunately, because my mind can wander quick. He explained that he was glad to share on Father's Day because he likes being a dad and he loves his kids (who love him). He talked about the fierceness of a Father's love. Of making sacrifices and protecting. Of giving ALL for one's children. Of our being adopted into His (God's) family.
There it was.
I saw a picture of the brutal death of Christ and the sacrifice it was for God the Father to give Him to get to me. The Daddy who is taking action.
He loves me. Not just in the "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" way, but also in the "I-can-tell-by-smelling-this-shirt-that-it's-yours-go-put-it-in-the-dirty-clothes"way. Everything about me good and bad. My stank. My taste in music and stuff I say that I think is funny but no one else does. He has been there in the storms and saw my dad reject me. He felt it too. He disciplines me with the consequences of my choices. Yet, He daily loadeth me with benefits. He is a good Father.
Don't get me wrong. My dad is a good guy. He works hard for a living and clearly takes really good care of the family he is a member of. He doesn't drink or rage with anger. That's why it is easy to cast him in the role of the real life western hero. He is just that good.
He just doesn't particularly want me.
Daddy in heaven whose name is too holy to pronounce. I look forward to Your kingdom, but in the meantime, help me do Your will on earth just as conscientiously as an angel would(because they have no distractions). Provide for these crazy needs that are beyond my resources of wisdom, strength, and material assets. Forgive me for crossing the line (not loving the line... could you lead me away from the line?). Protect us from evil, danger, trouble and stupidity. Because you have the kingdom and the authority and the fame. Forever.