RUN TO THE FATHER

Who do we run to when we're in trouble?

As children, we learn to run to Mummy or Daddy.

We run to them with our cuts and bruises.

We run to them with our questions and our need for help, for answers, for perspective, for value, for affirmation, for instructions.  That's how it's meant to be.  

I'm joining with other writers from Five Minute Friday, where we write on a theme word for five minutes.  

This week's these word is RUN. 

Or perhaps we learnt not to run to them, that we couldn't run to them because it wasn't safe.

Perhaps we learnt to run from them instead.

I did.  

One of the hardest things to do is to learn TO run to your heavenly Father when your earthly father broke your heart.  

You desperately need to, but you've trained yourself to hide.

You need His touch, but you're terrified of it.

You need His presence, but you're terrified of it.

You need His love, but you're terrified of it.

You need His embrace, but you're terrified of it.

You don't mean to be terrified, and you don't want to be.

And so He pursues you, He runs after you, with His grace and mercy, until you learn that His touch, His presence, His intentions, His love, His arms, are safe.  That relentless grace is like the waves on the shore - it just keeps coming, again and again and again.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.  Ps 23:6

That process can take years, as He pokes and prods and whispers and shows you that He CAN be trusted, that your heart and soul and your whole life, are safe in His arms, that you can run to Him, not from Him.

I've been in that process for years and years as He's carefully and lovingly and relentlessly held out His arms to me, invited me to relax with Him, in Him. 

When I was 17, my father tried to console me about something, tried to give me a hug, but I pulled away.  I'd been Daddy's girl for years until he took advantage of my trust, and for months sexually abused me, between the ages of 14 and 15.   I'd finally worked up the courage to lock him out of my room, and learnt to keep a safe distance from him physically.  But I couldn't distance myself from his constant verbal and emotional abuse, so I learnt to hide, to withdraw.  So when he reached out to hold me at 17, I made a heart decision that a father is someone to run from.

Yesterday, after several days away, seeking the Lord at a very significant place (more on that in the next blog post), I was driving home, with about four hours alone in my car, with the worship music on.  And He invited me into that embrace - again.  He asked if He could do some more heart surgery, to heal the heart of a fifteen year old, and to heal my brain of the need to pull away.

And He did. 

I will write more when I can, hopefully in the next few days, but I'll leave it here for now, with the words from one of my favourite songs.

So I run to the Father

I fall into grace

I'm done with the hiding

No reason to wait

My heart found a surgeon

My soul found a friend

So I'll run to the Father

Again and again

And again and again

Hear my voice when I call, Lord;  

be merciful to me and answer me.

My heart says of you, “Seek his face!”.       

Your face, Lord, I will seek.

Do not hide your face from me, 

do not turn your servant away 

in anger;

You have been my helper.

Do not reject me or forsake me, 

God my Saviour.

Though my father and mother 

forsake me, 

the Lord will receive me.    Ps 27:7-10