A Father’s “Yes!”

It was a mildly cold day in late December. I was nervously standing next to my dad. He was just as jittery. Thoughts were racing round and round at such speed I felt a little nauseated. I was wearing a fancy dress—white, with beads, with poof, with a train. We were minutes from the start. My dad said, “Are you ready?” I have no idea what I said in return, but I remember thinking too late now if I’m not. Before I could blink, the double doors opened and we were walking arm and arm.

The isle was long and lined with people. I knew they were there, but just blurred figures in candlelight. All I could see—all I really wanted to see—was the groom of my choice standing at the other end waiting for me. Still nervous, thoughts still looping, dad still by my side. The pianist brings Canon in D to an end, and the minister begins, “Do you give this woman to be married to this man?” My father replied, “Yes, we do.”

The memories of my wedding, as with all brides I suspect, are sparse. Some moments stand out more than others. Like, my ring bearer was barely taller than the keys on the piano. My bridesmaids got mad at me because I got dressed alone. My dad cried, my father-in-law cried, and I cried during the ceremony. My groom, Jonathan, wrote a song and sang it. I recall the lyric “I promise” and the sweetest melody until the very end when he went all alternative rock on us. And, of course, the moment from above when my dad said “Yes!” and then he gave me to Jonathan.

The truth is, dad said “Yes!” long before that moment at the wedding. He said it when Jonathan asked for his marriage blessing. He said it every time an invitation was offered for Jonathan to join us for family dinner or a legendary Humphrey’s outing. Now that I think about it, he said “Yes!” the first time he met Jonathan and let me leave the house with him. And, well, now that I really think about it, Dad said “Yes!” to me about Jonathan every time he said “No!” to me about another boy.

I wasn’t planning on writing a sequel to A Father’s “No!”, a post I wrote a couple of weeks ago. But recently two verses from Joshua jumped off the page, crawled into my lap like an excited puppy dog, licked me on the face, and yapped, “A Father’s “Yes!” (Pant-pant-pant-lick-pant).

Let me set the stage for you. Joshua and the Israelites had taken possession of most of the promised land. The land was being divvied up between the twelves tribes. Caleb had been given a portion of Judah and was in the process of driving out un-rightful inhabitants. He received help from a young man named Othniel. In exchange, Caleb gave his daughter, Achsah, to be Othniel’s wife. The next part of the story is what grabbed my attention. Achsah persuades Othniel to ask her father for a field. When they get to Caleb, it is Achsah who does all the talking, go figure. Her father asks, “What do you want?” Achsah replies, “Give me a blessing: Since you gave me the land in Negeb (south part of the land), also give me sources of water.” Caleb responds with a “Yes!” Specifically, it says that he gave her the upper and lower springs. (Joshua 15:13-19, slightly paraphrased.)

I admit I don’t really know what that looked like. The Biblical maps don’t satisfy my inquiring mind. My imagination runs wild. I picture two sets of Victoria Falls facing each other attracting all kinds of wildlife and rows upon rows of lavender. But my imagination can’t be trusted. So let’s assume something a little less grand. The point is, Othniel and Achsah asked for a field, and they walked away with land and two springs. Her father said, “Yes!”

That’s what licked me in the face that day. Here is a daughter who knows she has the ear (and heart) of her father. Here is a child who isn’t afraid to ask and then asks for more. Here is a father with a blessing to give and “Yes!” to go with it.

Sometimes I sparingly ask because I don’t want to bother God the Father. The more I think about that, the more I realize how unaware I am of the Father’s feelings toward me—us. I’m learning (still) that he doesn’t mind. He wants me to ask as many questions as I’ve got. He wants me to ask as many times as I need to. He would rather me yell at him than to reason it out with anyone else. I think he’s like, Well, she’s yelling at me, but at least she came to me! He never gets tired of my knocking. I think he delights in it because if nothing else, it is a sign that I’m thinking about him and his perspective. It signals that I want to come to my heavenly Father, that I want to trust. It’s the same for you.

Any type of thought we have that suggests don’t bother God about with that nonsense; don’t ask God too many questions today; you’re running out of wishes; know your place; he already gave you a field, don’t ask for springs too is a lie from the father of lies. Those thoughts have nothing to do with the Father heart of God. I pray we are never afraid or hesitant to ask our Father about anything. He is there delighting in our questions, thrilled at the chance to be in relationship with us, and ecstatic to show us what he is saying “Yes!” to.

I used to think the phrase “The Father’s no is yes to something else” was cheesy and kind of thoughtless. Those Sunday-school catchphrases do exist. But I understand it a little better today. God does say “No!” to a lot of the things I ask about. But similar to the way my dad’s “No!” to the other boys was an eventual “Yes!” to my husband, God the Father always has a “Yes!” It may be to something other than I asked about, but it is always to something better.

And, then, there are those times, like Caleb to Achsah, when God is ready with an immediate “Yes!” Aren’t those the best?

Wherever we may find ourselves in life—no matter how many questions we are carrying, no matter the innocence or heaviness of the requests—my prayer is that we put on child-like bravery that is unaware of protocol and formalities; and that we get all up in the Father’s face and ask away. Wait for the “Yes!” and all the extras that come with it!

Photo by Sheila Teixeira on Pixels