Jesus is My Daddy

In my last blog I was meditating on the image of Christ as my bridegroom. “My lover is mine, and I am His” Song of Solomon 2:16.

Another of my beloved images of Jesus is that He is my Father. Romans 8:15, “So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as His own children. Now we call Him, “Abba, Father.”

For me to understand what it means to have a father –daughter relationship with my sweet Jesus, I look at my own relationship with my earthly father. I have a beautiful relationship with my earthly father, full of love and trust. I know I can come to him if I have a problem or need advice.  I love laying my head on his chest and crying to my heart’s content when life has not gone my way. One of my greatest desires is for my dad to be proud of me.

Now I know for many of you reading this, you don’t have a great or even good relationship with your earthly father. In fact you have a bad relationship with him or you don’t know whom your dad is. You might say to me, “yeah, it is easy for you to see Jesus as your Father, but what about me?” Well think about who you wanted your father to be. Every one of us has an image, a dream of what you need in a father.

When I started to see and expect from Jesus what I need in my father I found He is so much more than I could ever imagine. I can trust in Him completely, I can come to Him with my deepest and darkest fears with out Him being disappointed in me. I never have to worry about my Heavenly Father being too busy to have time for my problems or cares.

My favorite time with my earthly father is when we are sitting on the couch and I am able to lay my head on His chest. During my prayer and worship times in order to cultivate my Father/Daughter relationship with my heavenly Father, I have started picturing myself sitting by Jesus in heaven, sometimes just sitting enjoying His presence and sometimes pouring my heart out to Him. When my heart is broken I sit on His lap and bury my face in His chest and give Him all my pain. When I need forgiveness I sit at His feet and beg for Him to forgive me. When I am thankful I see myself running around His throne, praising His name.

Last night at church, during our worship service, as I was lifting my hands in worship, an image came to me that portrays this so beautifully. I have always enjoyed lifting my hands in worship but never quite understood why I enjoyed it. Yesterday I spent all day with my nine-month-old nephew who is the happiest when He is being held. If I lay him on the floor and sit on the couch, he will crawl over to the couch and work his way up to a standing position and lift his hands to me, so I will pick him up. As I was standing in the service with my hands lifted, I could see myself just like that, wanting nothing more than to be picked up by my Daddy. Is that not what worship is all about? To sit on our heavenly Father’s lap and be happy just to be with Him.