(In honor of Father’s Day**)
I was sitting across from my dad at a McDonald’s somewhere in Nevada. He had a cup of coffee and I had a hot fudge sundae. It was the summer we drove from Alabama to San Francisco and back again for our family vacation. Those were long hours in the car. We only had puzzle books, a Walkman, and family sing-a-longs to pass the time. The Buick LeSabre, a smooth sage green and as long as the hours, carried us in comfort. The floorboards were big enough for me to nap in, yet my sister and I still found reasons to bicker. And despite our notorious reputation for car trouble, I only recall being stuck on the side of the road one time. As the white smoke rose, my mom walked me into the woods for a bathroom break. Yay, memories!
We had already visited the Grand Canyon and Painted Desert; Hollywood and San Francisco were next. While we were in Nevada, my mom wanted to experience real slot machines. My sister was old enough to accompany her without raising too many questions. I can’t remember if it was the summer before or after my seventh-grade year. Either way, no casinos for me. The next best thing? Quality time with Dad over afternoon treats at Mickey D’s.
As we sat there, I noticed a young man giving me the eyes. I must have eyed him back because he nodded for me to come over. What happened next is one of my favorite memories of my dad. I have several, and they all speak of his character. This one, though, draws a nearly perfect parallel to God the Father and his children.
After the young man nodded, I asked my dad for permission, “Can I go talk to that boy?” I remember the immediate uncomfortable, are-you-kidding-me look in my dad’s eyes. Even so, he turned around to check out the situation. As he turned back towards me, his head shaking side to side matched the no-no-no coming from his mouth. I knew whether implied or from the certainty in his voice, that meeting this boy would be a bad idea. A few minutes passed by, as well as a few more curious glances. My dad, taking notice, slid over in his seat and positioned himself between the boy and me. The only thing I could then see was my dad’s face. He took it one step further by engaging me in a different conversation until Mom and Sis met back up with us.
A couple of years ago I asked my heavenly Father for a “Yes!” regarding something I wanted. He said “No-no-no!” every time I asked. I admit. I asked a lot of times. I am now relieved that God said, “No!” Hindsight has a way of making things very clear. I was thanking God for his kindness recently about that situation when I heard him say, “Remember that time you were at a McDonald’s in Nevada with your dad?” The memory surfaced with ease.
In the same way my dad responded to me all those years ago, I believe our heavenly Father wants to interact with us about the desires in our hearts. His “No!” is as trustworthy as his “Yes!”
When we choose to ask God—and it is a decision—he responds with wisdom and love; goodness and better-ness. Many of us ask God questions about the desire in our hearts but to be comfortable enough to stick around and hear his response is a mark of maturity. A couple of years ago I could have given myself a “Yes!”, and schemed my way into getting what I wanted. Gratefully, and only by the mercy of God, I am learning to appreciate—to seek—God’s counsel and to trust his leading.
Here are parallels with the heart of God the Father from that conversation with my earthy dad.
1.The Father Never Blindly Says, “No.”
I love that my dad turned around and checked out the situation that day at McDonald’s. He didn’t just say give a blunt answer. What it speaks to me and mirrors about our Heavenly Father is that he cared enough to see what I was seeing. It gave us common ground to move from—together. God never blindly says “No!” to us. I believe he evaluates (searches) the desires of hearts thoroughly and with great care.
2. The Father Moves To Capture Our Gaze
In all of our curious wondering and for all the glitter that catches our eyes in life, our heavenly Father will make a move to recapture our gaze. He will make every effort to cut off the flesh, to separate us from the desires in our hearts that are not holy and good. We can counter his move to get the things our flesh cries out for, or we can surrender and fix our eyes on him. When we surrender, he faithfully redirects our hearts.
3. The Father is Engaging
When my dad slid over in the booth to block my view, his next move was to engage me in conversation. It was the conversation, the redirect, that helped me stop thinking about that boy. I cannot recall what we talked about, but it worked. And I know my dad a little more today because of that conversation. He took full advantage of building relationship with me that day in Nevada. Our Heavenly Father does the same things to an even greater degree. He doesn’t just grab our attention; he engages us in conversation. He reveals himself to us. He calls us to maturity.
I pray that you are encouraged today about our heavenly Father. I pray we make the choice to ask God questions, fix our eyes on him when distractions persist, trust his council, and engage with him in the redirect. These conversations, these moments with the Father, form heaven inside us. Amen!
**Revised from original post, June 2019
Brave Sparrow 