Faces of Spring

Boughs heavy laden with evening’s snow

Now rise as droplets melt like rain

Plays tricks on my ears

That a cloudburst has claimed the day

But my eyes in slumber rest

As I lounge upon my deck

And the veil where the eyes do hide

Do not keep my sight from me

Alas! It is as summer

In the brightest light of day

It melts my aching bones

Giving way to sweet repose

"I Will Be Your Father"

As we entered the home, my mother gave me some crayons and a piece of notebook paper and sent me to an adjacent room to busy myself with coloring. A number of men and women were all surrounding the kitchen area and soon my mother had gathered the women around her, when I heard their disturbing chatter. As a traveling salesman my Dad had not been home much, but this time, it seemed from the conversation that my Dad was not coming home to us anymore. I was five years old at the time and the youngest of five children. What did this mean?   
As I continued coloring, fear had taken hold me and my little head was trying to understand what I just heard. I felt a sudden loss for which I had no understanding. While alone my confusion, before I thought to run to my mommy for reassurance and comfort,  I quickly felt a strong presence enter the room beside me.  I looked around, but no one was there. Then suddenly I sensed a warm embrace holding me, which immediately melted my fears  away, and replaced it with an unfamiliar peace settling into my heart. 

I was so moved by this, that I decided to make something special out of my coloring project. Folding my paper into a fan, I colored it with flowers, and put my name on the front in cursive and put a secret message in one of the folds.  I wrote “I Love God.” This cherished memento was my response to His presence,  and is a keepsake that I still possess. 
How true the verse is in 1 John 4:19 KJV which says, "We love Him,Because He first loved us."

My parents divorced soon after that and I vividly remember the day my mom went to court. I watched as she was putting on a green dress suit and leaned toward the mirror to put on a pretty pair of earrings. As I lay on her bed, looking up at the seagull mobile she put above the bed so I could go to sleep at night, I asked her, "is Daddy ever coming home again?" “No” she said. As I lay there quietly, questions filled my mind that needed answers. Was mommy not pretty enough for him? What could have driven daddy away? I concluded that it must be my fault. One too many kids for him to handle. 
The sense of security, value and direction a father’s love brings was replaced with the gnawing sense of being rejected and abandoned. It became a belief that we children were not worthwhile enough for him to want to stick around. 

We were all deeply affected, but I felt the pain more acutely for my three brothers who had to borrow an uncle or someone else’s dad for father/son events or experience the emptiness of a victory not shared, cheered on or praised . We were more acutely aware of our loss and it became a clear statement to the world of how worthless we felt by his absence. For me, what shaped my life the most was never seeing my mother loved by anyone. I never saw her hugged or kissed. No affection outside of her children. I felt so unloveable, and sure that I would have to be flawless if I were to find someone to love me.

A five year old girl can hardly put to words the kind of peace that dispelled my fears the day I learned my dad was leaving us. But now that I am older, I can describe what I heard from experiencing the  presence of the Lord that entered the room to calm my fears.

God was declaring to me, “I will be your Father.” 

 This first encounter with the Lord would be the beginning of my new Fathers care over me. It would take years before I would really know the One who had embraced me, but He placed a hunger in my heart that would eventually lead me back to Him. 

Throughout every challenge I have faced and rebellious road I have taken, I often heard His voice speaking to me, "this is not what you want. This is not what I want for you." 

I am filled with gratitude to my Father for His guidance and discipline, His pity and compassion. His love has healed the little girl and has made this woman His own.

  And when I see the admiration and praise of earthly fathers toward their children, I can see Him there, in my minds eye, taking delight in me.