A Good, Good Father

"Good Good Father" by Housefires

I wanted to post a status on Facebook about this song, a new favorite on my playlists and a regular at Well House North, the church I've been attending lately (more on that topic later too, maybe). But I think I have too much on my heart for a status, so I think I'll try to get it out right here. 

Let's go bit by bit...

Oh, I've heard a thousand stories

Of what they think You're like.

But I've heard the tender whisper

Of love in the dead of night.

And You tell me that You're pleased 

And that I'm never alone.

• I didn't think about it when I was singing this song this morning, but this first verse is a good complement to the book I started today, Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby, which, so far has said to me that there's head knowledge, and then there's heart knowledge, and knowing God has to include heart knowledge. Our world, our history, our libraries, and our Facebook feeds are filled to the brim with the thousands of stories of what people think God is like and what they think He wants from us. Sometimes it's still unsettling to me that there are so many ways to think about God, so many ways to choose to live life, believing or not believing in a creator of any kind. There's always that whisper, "How do you know what you believe is true?" There's always that old John Mayer refrain this blog and I know so well, "Am I living it right?" Lately, though, God keeps giving me more and more freedom from these questions. His tender whisper of love keeps getting louder, keeps getting more persistent, and is drowning the rest of it out. It's amazing to look back upon the past 16-18 years and think that the first time I remember really hearing those whispers was as a young pre-teen nightmare, back when I spent most of my time filling my parents and grandparents with fear of what was going on with me and filling my pillowcase with tears. Back then, it really was probably in the dead of the night, crumpled over gel-penned diary pages and that dear, old Teen Study Bible, that I heard Him whispering. As kids at school and my own fearful and introverted perceptions of myself told me I was an ugly and undesirable nerd, the whispers were telling me that I was fearfully and wonderfully made.  My Papaw wrote in a card that I resented at the time and see as a foundational moment in my faith now, "God doesn't make junk." In that card was just one of God's whispers, and even when I was fighting them, they started telling me then and keep telling me now that I am loved, not just by my wonderful worldly family but my heavenly Father too. The whispers say even today, this morning at Well House, that I am made in His image.* There are stories of theories and theology, and then there are stories of what God has really done in my life, stories that echo His whispers and tell me that I  am truly never alone, whispers that assure me that He Is, that He Is good, and that I am His, in short– 

You're a good, good Father.

It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are.

And I'm loved by You.

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am.      

 Oh, and I've seen many searching 

For answers far and wide.

But I know we're all searching

For answers only You provide.

Because You know just what we need

Before we even say a word.

• The more I teach, the more the world just keeps having the same conflicts and imperfections and injustices over and over again, the more I watch the news in spite of avoiding it, and the more I read wars on Facebook, the more I see we're all broken and in need of salvation and the more I see that we all spend a whole lot of time struggling against what we think is wrong and justifying why we think we are right. The more I see of it, the more I'm convinced we're all searching for the same answers. One way to respond to that is to decide that all answers are valid since we're all just seekers. That's certainly the most popular these days. We're all about choosing our own truths. And certainly everyone can do that, and I'm for allowing that because I think freedom, in a worldly sense, requires that. But I personally am not satisfied with worldly freedom. I want freedom and peace beyond what this world can provide, and I am more convinced with every book of the Bible I read or reread, every interaction I have with true brothers and sisters in Christ, every whisper God continues to whisper, that He is the one and only answer to all of our questions and searching. Through all my revisions and re-revisions, through all of my quarter- and third- life crises of identity, this remains true–

You're a good, good Father.

It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are.

And I'm loved by You.

It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am.  

Because You are perfect in all of Your ways! 

You are perfect in all of Your ways!

You are perfect in all of Your ways to us!

•  I want so much to be perfect. In fact, it's pretty much a defining statement of who I am and always have been. Much of my pre-teen misery stemmed from wanting to be perfect, and some of my most important crises of faith have centered on my frustration that I am not made with the capability to be perfect. There was even a time when I thought that maybe I didn't want a God who would hold me accountable for perfection while not making it attainable to me. Except, praise God, I finally realized, that perfection is only unattainable to me in my own power. God is perfect. And Christ will work to perfect me through His Holy Spirit, just as He is perfect. I always knew this in head knowledge, I guess. But, when it finally became heart knowledge, it set me free of so much frustration, so much resentment against my God, whom I should only love, and so much false trust in my self. Again, in this, there is a popular worldly solution– believing that I'm perfect just the way I am and am in no need of change. But I know deep down that isn't true, and it just never satisfies. There is perfection, and it is God who is perfect. When I understand and when I don't, He is perfect. And there is so much joyful freedom in proclaiming it.    

Oh, it's love so undeniable, 

I can hardly speak. 

Peace so unexplainable

I can hardly think.

As You call me deeper still,

As You call me deeper still,

As You call me deeper still,

into love, love, love ...  

• Last Sunday, the prayers on my heart all had to do with water and depth– wanting the faith to get out of the boat and walk on the water to my Lord. This song connects here too. Deeper still. Deeper still. The wonder and love of God are so great, growing greater in my feeble eyes every year, and I just want to go, to be, to live deeper still in His love. 

* It's heart-stoppingly striking to think about the implications of all of this in the middle school world around which my universe revolves. One, these children who fill my days, thoughts, and conversations are made in the image of God. God is well pleased with them and loves them and is their Father.  Do I look at them as if they are bearers of the image of my Creator and Savior? Do I love them as if they are? Do I love them as Jesus does? Two, I was right around their age when I first began to hear His whispers telling me that about myself. Have I opened myself up, have I trusted God to use me as an instrument for those life-giving whispers in the lives of these precious little image-bearers? (Perhaps more on this later, too.) In the meantime, my constant prayer must be– Lord, help me!