Having a dad changes everything

I was lucky enough to grow up with a dad who loved me and was involved in my life.

My dad came to all my games and performances. Usually he helped coach the team! My dad played dolls with me. He took me on trips - just him and me. He asked me to join him at his speaking engagements. He built tents with me in our basement and helped me with my math homework. He spent many nights telling me stories and teaching me to whistle, even though he knew I was just trying to avoid going to bed. My dad taught me to hear the Lord. Heck, my dad turned down promotions and quit his job at a national accounting firm because he was afraid it would keep him away from me too much. I have a good dad.


So with this model, you'd think I wouldn't have any issues relating to God as my father. But I've come to realize that most of the problems in my life stem from the inaccurate ways I picture God as my Dad.


AN ABANDONED ORPHAN
The most recent occurrence came this week as I was listening to an old series of messages from Crossroads called "A Place at the Table." Basically, the premise is that even though God has adopted us into his family, most of us still act like abandoned orphans.

During this series, some parents described behaviors of their adopted children that resulted from their experience as abandoned orphans.  So, for example...

• Abandoned orphans can't trust anyone, so they have attachment issues and they're guarded and defensive...not really letting anyone get too close. 
• Abandoned orphans aren't provided for, so they hoard and hide away any resources they obtain. 
• Abandoned orphans don't have any support or guidance, so they're independent and figure things out for themselves without relying on anyone else. 
• Abandoned orphans don't have a family identity, so they try to earn approval and develop their own identity some other way.

As I listened to these descriptions, it was startlingly clear that this description of an abandoned orphan fits me to a T. Those are ALL things I do. And that was really sad to me...because I'm NOT an abandoned orphan. I have a human dad who loves me...but more than that, I have a Dad in heaven who's crazy about me, who would NEVER abandon me, who calls me his treasured child, and who's given me a place at his table.

So knowing that this is who I am - a treasured child of God - I started to wonder why I'm not living in the fullness of the identity I've been given. Why am I moping around, feeling resigned to a desolate future, wearing rags and eating porridge...when I have the right to walk confidently in the royal robes of a princess who's due to inherit the world?


A SIGNIFICANT QUESTION
Last week I asked God that question..."Why don't I feel like a treasured child?"

I contemplated it for a long time, and eventually another question came to me - the answer to which I think explains my disconnect. The question was this..."How do you picture me?"

Well, lately I've been keeping my distance from God...mostly because there are things I'm holding on to that I'm afraid he'll tell me to give up. (Granted, I haven't actually ASKED him how he feels about those things...I just tend to assume he doesn't want me to have anything, so as soon as anything good comes within my reach, I hide it from him or get real quiet so he doesn't notice I've got it.)

So as I thought about it, I realized that I've been picturing my interaction with God like this:

I'm a bratty 2-year-old in a room filled with all sorts of random objects. I keep going around picking everything up...and God is following closely behind, slapping my hand and saying, "Put that down! Put that down!" 

In that scenario, I respond to our interaction in two ways.

1. First, the fact that he's reprimanding me makes me want to pick up those things even MORE because I'm obstinate and contrary. 
2. Second, I want to stay away from God because I hate always hearing "Put that down!" when there are so many interesting things out there that I'm curious about. I want to be able to pick them up and look at them and talk to my Dad about them openly, rather than having to hide the fact that I'm holding them...but I don't feel like I have the freedom to do that. 

So this leads to all my orphan tendencies...defensive, guarded, pushing God away, hoarding/hiding my stuff, trying to do things on my own. I act like this because it doesn't seem like God is for me; it seems like he's someone around whom I need to watch my back.

As I was contemplating this picture, though, this thought came to me..."So you don't actually think of me as your Dad; you think of me as your annoyed babysitter."

Whoa. That thought was novel to me. Honestly, my interaction with children is usually the one I just described...they're going around being annoying, and I'm following on their heels, grabbing things from their greedy hands, thinking, "OH MY GOSH, why can't you just sit down and stop messing things up!!!" This seems like a normal interaction to me. So to think that maybe God is not so annoyed, overprotective and controlling as I am was actually kind of hard to believe. After all, when 2-year-olds pick up dangerous objects, it's very likely that something or someone is going to get broken or put out of place! So it seems like God SHOULD be following me around telling me to put things down! Otherwise I'm just going to make a mess of my life. If he's not an annoyed babysitter, then what exactly is our interaction like?


A NEW PICTURE
I pondered this for several days until something clicked for me during a conversation with my brother. Andy was talking about the way he interacts with his 4-year-old, and he said that even though some people think he's crazy, he's taught Audie to use a saw and other tools. He said that rather than just telling Audie to stay away from dangerous things altogether, it makes more sense for him to teach Audie the proper way to use those things and to guide him as they use those tools together. He said he thinks this approach will help Audie to develop wisdom in knowing how and when to use dangerous objects; whereas just banning him from those objects may create safety, but no real growth.

With this, a light bulb went on! What if this is how God interacts with me? What if he DOES want growth for me rather than settling for safety? What if a truer picture of God is this:

My Dad and I are in a room, and as I go around looking at things and touching them, God is smiling and relaxed. He's saying, "Look at all these cool things, Jill! Go ahead...pick them up! Let me show you how to use them the right way. Let's do it together." 

A TREASURED CHILD
Now I don't know for sure if this picture is completely accurate. But I DO know that it creates a totally different reaction in me than the first scenario does.

• This picture of God makes me feel really free...like I don't have to hide anything anymore - like I can just tell my Dad about the things I'm holding, and then because we're having open dialogue, I'll trust his opinion of whether I should put it down because I won't feel as if he's always just slapping my hand about everything I pick up.
• This picture makes me feel really safe...like my Dad is going to show me the correct way to use things so I don't get hurt or hurt someone else.
• This picture makes me feel validated...like my Dad trusts me and thinks I have the potential and ability to use things correctly.
• This picture makes me feel purposeful...like my Dad has a plan for my life and wants me to participate in the family mission, so he 's going to teach me the valuable skills I'll need to accomplish that.
• This picture makes me feel provided for...like my Dad WANTS me to have stuff - like his objective isn't to take things away and leave me sitting there bored, but to give me stuff and then to use it WITH me.

This new picture is really comforting to me. I like knowing that my Dad thinks I actually have a good head on my shoulders; that I don't have to prove myself to him. At the same time, I also like the thought that my Dad wants to do things WITH me - that he doesn't just expect me to figure out life on my own. I need to know that he's helping me; that he's guiding me. In that case, I'm not abandoned; I'm planned for.

For some reason, as I meditated on that picture of my Dad, I just started to BELIEVE it. I mean, I actually FELT like a treasured child. And when I did, all the fruit of the Spirit that's been absent lately came rushing back with a vengeance. I've been sooooo defensive lately, but in that moment, it all just washed off me. I just felt so GOOD...knowing that no matter what happens, I have a Dad who's taking care of me and who's on my side. And he NOTICES me...not in an annoyed way, but in a tender, excited way. I mean, he more than notices me. He can't keep his mind off of me! He thinks I'm interesting! He wants to spend time with me!  He wants to do life with me. He thinks I'm worth teaching. He gets me. When I believed that, suddenly everything felt right in the world. It didn't have anything to do with my circumstances or the things I was holding and hiding...it just had to do with me knowing my Dad's got my back.

I NEED TO KNOW MY DAD

And then something occurred to me.

My picture of God is REALLY, REALLY important. It dictates the way I respond to him. It dictates the way I act and feel. It dictates the the way I view the world and everyone else in it. And because of that, I really need to have a correct picture of my Dad...because if my picture of my Dad is skewed, then everything else will be skewed as well. Having a skewed picture of my Dad is what causes me to act like an abandoned orphan, and it's what causes me to make stupid decisions with the stuff I pick up. On the other hand, understanding the way my Dad truly interacts with me is what causes me to live like a treasured child, to bear fruit and to live wisely.

A.W. Tozer said, "...the gravest question before any man is not what he at a given time may say or do, but what he in his deep heart conceives God to be like."

I think that's true. And to me, the implication is this: 

I need to know who my Dad is. And the only way to do that is to spend time with him. But the only way I'll WANT to spend time with him is if I know who he is and don't let my skewed pictures get in the way!

It's kind of a vicious cycle! I need to spend time with him in order to know him...but I won't spend time with him until I know him! Aaaaaaaah!

So what am I going to do about this dilemma? I finally reached two conclusions:

1. I need to JUST COME CLOSE to him...even when I don't want to, even when I've got 50 million excuses, even when he seems unapproachable, even when I'm holding things I think I need to hide. Coming close is the only way to resolve my skewed pictures.
2. I need his help in coming close to him. I need him to draw me to himself when I'm a kicking, screaming 2-year-old who'd rather throw a temper tantrum than surrender to her Dad's hug. I need him to reveal himself to me when I'm holding on to crazy pictures of him in my head. I need him to whisper to this abandoned orphan who I really am..."This is my treasured child, in whom I am well pleased."

So that's what I've been doing this week...calling out to my Dad and saying, "You say you're my Dad. So show me what you're really like." 

I have to believe that's a prayer he wants to answer.

God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. --Romans 8:14-16