Open Letter to Dad

Hey Dad,

Hope you're well. It's me. Your favorite kid. It's been awhile since we chatted. And I know why. It's because I keep thinking that intimacy is a switch that I can throw at my discretion.

Wrong.

You're not a part-time dad; You don't want me to be a part-time kid.

So I'm sorry. I know, You've heard it all before. Yet, true to Your nature, I know You're up there smiling and welcoming me back into Your arms. But again, true to the way I was created, I'm coming back to You.

The problem is flesh.

It's that pesky Pride and Selfishness. Essentially, I keep thinking I can do better at running my life than You! There can only be one You. And trying to usurp Your authority in my life is the same thing that got Lucifer kicked out of Your glorious presence. The same sin that tripped up Adam and Eve. 

And here I am.

Guilty.

But today, I'm choosing to take my guilt and waywardness to the only Place where it will disappear. The foot of the Cross. And the blood I find dripping down from Emmanuel's veins will again make me pure.

So Dad, please know that in good faith, I'm saying yes to You again. And I remember reading a sermon about this once. About how the only way I can come to You is if I first realize that I am NOTHING without You. You are my Source, the very Life in my veins! Without you, I wouldn't even exist...the air I breathe wouldn't be here. Even if there were air, I wouldn't have lungs with which to draw even one breath because all things are held together by You.

Since You promised to never forsake me, I know that You were following me around in my childish independent streak, just waiting to pick me up when I inevitably fell. Yet, I still can't help feeling that You were calling out to me, whispering my name attempting to disrupt my routine, even before I fell further.

Well done.

Here I am. Routine disrupted. Reminds me of all the good times we've had. Funny how when things are going swimmingly is often when I think of You the least. I'm reminded of the times when You never left my side, though I thought you did...

You wept with me on a warm Sunday afternoon in Seattle when I tearfully waved goodbye to all my friends from the inside of a train car as it carried with it the shattered dreams of a teenage boy moving halfway across the country.

You knelt beside this freshly-dumped ex-boyfriend in high school who didn't understand why.

You were there during those times I kept searching for You at the bottom of bottle after bottle, gently and kindly inviting me to something great.

And each time I woke up next to someone who wasn't my wife, You were there too. You're used to that. Adultery is unfortunately common in this family.

And each weak, yet sincere attempt to put You first in my heart was met with a ravished gaze. Every time.

When I finally said yes to Your invitations to greater intimacy, you were just as much here as You were when I made a decision in rebellion.

Yet the difference in the good times from the bad is the joy You get from my obedience, and the satisfaction I get when I obey.

So it's those times of obedience that comfort this pilgrims heart at a time like this.

You're not mad.

You're abounding in love! You're slow to anger! You're good to me!

And I know it well.

So thanks for listening. You always do. It's good for me to state Your goodness over my heart. Maybe this time it will stick. At least for a day.

Which means, I'll talk to You tomorrow. If not again today...

Because this religion thing to which You've invited me is the pathway of a lifelong, daily walk-it-out-by-fear-and-trembling relationship with a dynamic, living, loving Father.

Thanks for choosing me. I can't make it up to You, but I'll give You the only thing that You cannot have unwillingly-my heart.

It's Yours. I trust You. Help me trust You more.

See You soon.


Love,

Your favorite son