Discovering Our Father's Lavish Love: A Father’s Day Reflection
“The Father’s love does not force itself on the beloved. Although he wants to heal us of all our inner darkness, we are still free to make our own choice to stay in the darkness or to step into the light of God’s love.”
What does the word “father” mean to you? It’s kind of a loaded question. We all have some idea of what a father should be. Or perhaps we have a better idea of what a father should not be. For this reason, Father’s Day may not be a welcome holiday for some. And it’s okay to recognize those wounds. But this year as Father’s Day arrives, I’d like to invite you to seek an encounter with your Heavenly Father. Afterall, he’s the perfect standard of fatherhood and the ultimate source of our existence. He is the one who knows us best. But what does it really mean to be deeply loved and truly known as a child of our Heavenly Father?
For years there was something missing from my spiritual journey. I sensed the absence acutely but couldn’t put a name to it. I gave my life to Jesus during a college Bible study meeting when I was nineteen. My decision to follow Jesus was genuine, but I longed to experience the blessed assurance of which people spoke. What was wrong with me? For many years this question lingered. I wanted to more. I wanted unshakeable peace and joy, but there was still so much fear in my life. I remember telling my therapist I felt as if the springs of living water that were supposed to be present in my life only occasionally bubbled up, and they never flowed freely. It was like they were filled with muck. I’d already put my trust in Jesus, so what more could I do?
Fast forward a couple of decades. I’d grown in my faith, but the nagging spiritual lack I felt had become my everyday condition. I knew there had to be more. I continued to wrestle with doubt but eventually came to a place of grace, no longer beating myself up over it. Yet, the longing persisted.
In 2017, my husband and I were given the opportunity to take a sabbatical that involved spending three months off the grid on a remote island in New Zealand. Just being able to travel to New Zealand felt like a dream come true, and my inner hobbit was elated. Our time on this island would involve living in community with 60 other Christians from across the globe. Together, we were seeking the heart of our Heavenly Father.
During our first week on the island, each participant had the opportunity to share with the group a little about themselves. I remember saying that I wasn’t a very emotional person; so if they ever saw me at the back of the room sobbing, they would know God was working. As part of an assignment, I also wrote a letter to myself describing what I hoped God would do during those three months. I expressed my desire “to experience that feeling of blessed assurance” and reminded myself that I would need to “take emotional risks and entrust my heart to Father’s loving hands.”
“Surrender was the only way forward, and it was from that posture of surrender that I discovered the power of weakness and the beauty of abiding.”
Each day there was teaching from breakfast to lunch. The afternoons involved community chores, small group gatherings, and time to rest or explore the natural wonder of our island home. As an introvert and only child, this type of community living was an adjustment for me; but being pushed outside of my comfort zone was just what I needed. I had to learn to become vulnerable, to open my heart to those around me, and ultimately to God.
What eventually happened changed everything. This is no exaggeration. I arrived in New Zealand as one person and left as another. And it all happened in the most unexpected way.
I’d come down with the flu and had missed a few days of teaching. I wasn’t very happy being trapped in my room; so on Friday of that week, I took my pillow, blanket and some sofa cushions and created a bed for myself at the back of the group session. Honestly, I was only half listening to what was being taught, and I couldn’t give you any details about it. Seemingly out of nowhere, I felt something hit my heart. It was a physical sensation I couldn’t explain, and suddenly tears were streaming down my face. Me, sobbing in the back of the room! This was entirely new, and it took a couple weeks to be able to put words to what I had just experienced.
As I sat listening to the morning teaching some two weeks later, these words struck me with the force of Truth. “Eternal life is the quality of life found in the love of the Father.” That was the missing piece. In a split second it all clicked into place. I had received eternal life when I accepted Jesus, but I was missing the quality of life that our Heavenly Father imparts when we realize that we are His beloved children.
In that moment, I understood the truth of 1 John 4:18 in a deeper way. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. When I received God’s perfect love as I lay in the back of the room on my makeshift bed, everything changed. The clouds of fear parted because I knew that I was loved. My Father was good, and He loved me. And I didn’t just know it with my head, I understood it in my heart. The peace and joy I’d always had to dig deep to muster up suddenly rose to the surface. It became a constant flow, no longer mere bubbles that popped moments after appearing.
God is a real Father who exceeds all our expectations. He is perfect love. He accepts us as we are but won’t let us stay in a perpetual state of brokenness.
I believe that many Christians have experienced the frustration of waiting for an abstract, intellectual knowledge of God’s love to drop from the head to the heart. This was certainly my experience. As I waited, I condemned myself for lack of faith, for not being good enough. I grew irritated at my own inability to facilitate change. I wondered why I couldn’t seem to get it right. Perhaps this is similar to your story. If so, I want to assure you there is a way forward.
I’ve come to understand that my head was my biggest stumbling block. Can you relate? I was simply never going to be able to force head knowledge of God’s love to become heart understanding. It had to work the other way around. I had to allow God to work in my heart, trusting that he knows my heart better than I do. No amount of dogged self-will was going to create the change I sought. It had to originate with God. Surrender was the only way forward, and it was from that posture of surrender that I discovered the power of weakness and the beauty of abiding.
Recently, I found the letter I wrote to myself at the beginning of our time in New Zealand. I wept as I realized that my Father had heard the cries of my heart and answered my prayers. I asked to experience his love, and he had not withheld it. Upon receiving this glorious revelation of God’s love, it was as if the power grid finally turned on, and I experienced the deepest assurance that I am truly loved. What he’d done in my heart also became the catalyst for renewing my mind. He met me where I was and gave me exactly what I needed. I had learned to trust my “Father’s loving hands.”
As we celebrate Father’s Day, it is crucial to remember there is no such thing as a perfect earthly father. While I’m grateful to have grown up with a loving father, I know this is not everyone’s experience. And even the best human dad can’t come close to loving us the way our Heavenly Father does. We all know there are earthly fathers who fail miserably. Maybe you’ve experienced this if your father was an alcoholic, or an abuser, or simply absent. When we don’t receive the love and comfort we need from our earthly father, it’s easy to give up on fathers altogether. We may ask ourselves, “What’s the point of having a father if he’s only going to hurt me?”
If this is you, consider asking God to show you what a loving father is like. Ask him to reveal more of his love to you. I can say without a doubt that he loves you more than you know, and he is willing to heal your wounds. He can even help you forgive an earthly father who has caused, or continues to cause, deep pain. The release that comes from stepping into forgiveness creates space to receive even more of God’s love. Your Heavenly Father is not stingy. He gives his love both willingly and abundantly. Neither is he distant. He offers the greatest intimacy, the closeness of the one Jesus calls “Abba.” He is your Daddy. Is your heart open to receive what he has for you?
I encourage you to accept the embrace of the one who gave you life. Let him hold you and show you his perfect love. Abide in him. Rest under the shadow of his wings. Allow yourself to simply be his child. I pray that you would experience the truth of 1 John 3:1. See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! Maybe for you, as it was for me, that foundational truth will prove to be the missing piece in your spiritual journey.
