Who's Your Daddy?

I remember the daddy of my childhood before my parents’ divorce in one fearful episode after the other.  I was afraid of my dad.  He was the capricious, angry authority, and you had to try to discern his mood before approaching him.  When Dad disciplined my brother one time, he took him upstairs to my parents’ bedroom and shut the door.  Although I did not see what went on I could hear my brother rolling across the floor as Dad threw him around the room, and my brother’s screams.  No wonder all five of us kids tiptoed around our dad.

I heard a pastor on the radio recently, talking about how when he heard his twin girls stirring upstairs in their room in the mornings, he would station himself at the bottom of the stairs.  When the girls emerged from their room to come down to breakfast, they would find their daddy, his arms flung wide and a huge smile on his face, waiting to enfold them in his arms.  What a very different memory those little girls will have of their dad, then I have of mine.

Thankfully, I no longer walk about as a victim of a misguided parent.  I know about the loveless upbringing my dad experienced, and I forgive him for mistakes he made.  But more than choosing not to act as a victim, or to forgive, is the fact that I am the daughter of another Father now, and I am walking in that identity.  It wasn’t an immediate realization for me when I first accepted the right God offered me to be called his child.  There were still plenty of times I tiptoed around God so as not to offend him, and tried to win his favor by doing good works.  But now I know that he’s my Daddy. 

God is the perfect Daddy.  I don’t have to hide from him, since he always knows what I am doing, what I am thinking.  I don’t disappoint him, since disappointment only results from someone not meeting your expectations for them (as so wonderfully put in The Shack).  God always knows what I am going to do whether wise or foolish, so there are no expectations involved, no disappointment that follows.  Sorrow sometimes, yes, for when I don’t choose the good things he has for me, but not disappointment in me.  Like the pastor daddy, God’s arms are always flung wide to embrace me.

And I don’t have to earn my Daddy’s favor to get in his good graces.  I know that all he wants from me is to trust him, to believe him.  The bible tells me (Hebrews 11:6) that it’s my faith that pleases him, not trying to do everything right, to perform for him. 

So here I am, loved by my Father, secure in my relationship as his chosen, adopted daughter.  I know who my Daddy is.