Calling Out To The Father
About a month ago at around 4:00 in the morning, my son, Denver, woke up screaming. Naturally, screams this loud woke both Ryan and I up, but we figured he’d go back to sleep and let him cry it out. About 10-15 minutes go by and at this point it feels like he has to be pretty bothered by something if he was crying this hard. We debated whether we should go in or not and figured it would be best if Ryan went to check on him. In the midst of his sad little cries, he was also saying the one word he knows very, very, well: “Dada”. When Ryan walked in, I could hear him through the baby monitor talking to Denver. He picks him up out of his crib and says in his sweet and tender dad voice, “Were you calling my name? Your Dada is right here, you don’t have to be scared.” I remember hearing that and being so struck at the parallel of God the Father to his children. Immediately Denver stopped crying, snuggled up to his dad, and was rocked back to sleep.
In a year fraught with so many things, I’ve realized just how much my natural reaction is to not call out to the Father. This isn’t uncommon for us feeble humans. In fact, it’s a tale literally as old as time itself. When realizing that they were naked and scared, Adam and Eve didn’t cry out to God who had given them all that they needed. Instead they made some make shift coverings and tried to ride it out in their own way. If I’m honest though, sometimes I don’t even realize that God isn’t even an afterthought to any problems I find myself having because the problem was resolved by yours truly and all is well. Is it well though? My confidence in my ability to problem solve will never hold up or provide peace. It will certainly never give me the freedom to let go of things in a healthy way. How does this become a natural instinct though?
The other day I was really stressed out about several things. I got to the point where I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t even have a good conversation with Ryan about it. I remember at one point just sitting in the car and I said out loud, “Lord, I need you”. In that moment, I think I felt the way Denver did when he saw his dad walk in the room after crying out to us and needing he’s comfort. Knowing the security of what it means to be held by your dad and not feeling as scared as you were a few seconds before. Nothing was fixed in that moment, but my heart did feel lighter knowing I wasn’t alone and could just ask for God’s presence to be near and feel it surrounding me.
I think the question I posed above is something mankind has been trying to figure out since the beginning. Reliance on God is not natural, unfortunately, and something people have always railed against. For me at least, I think my first step is just acknowledging my need for God in all things, daily and often. Even if there are no worries to my day, knowing that God is before it, in it, and behind all of it like Ps. 139 talks about. As 2021 will be full with worries of its own, may we all be child-like in crying out to our Father, with no concern and full confidence that he’ll be woken up and have to get out of his warm bed to come bring us comfort, peace, and security.