21st
A FATHER’S LOVE
They say that you perceive God’s love in the same way as you do your father’s. I do.
My earliest memory of my father was at three years old. We had recently moved into a two story house with a tile stairway. Dad was always reminding us how slippery it was, but this day, he headed down the stairs in stocking feet and bounced his tailbone down every step. When he finally landed, I came right over to him. I think today about how much comfort a toddler could give to an adult who was feeling foolish, but in that memory, I realize that I have always loved that dad of mine.
Dad was brilliant. He knew more answers than the questions a person could think to ask; even in a lifetime. You would not know this because he flaunted or boasted about it. I didn’t even realize it until I was an adult. Contrarily, while growing up, I always felt smart around dad. He just made me feel smart. I never thought much about how brilliant he was. He also made me feel it was okay to be smart, and that felt good.
He made me feel the same way about how he loved me. His wasn’t a flashy or showy love. His was the, ‘I’m here when you need me’, ‘I’ll take care of you’, ‘I’m in it for the long haul’ love. I didn’t hear him say it out loud, but not once have I ever doubted his love. I feel it and it has always been ‘given’ for me. That may sound strange to anyone else, but dad and I lived in a father-daughter love that did not require much language. I loved him, he loved me, we accepted each other and there was no doubt. There were times when I wanted approval for accomplishments from my father, but that is not the same as knowing that he loved me-the me that no matter what I did or didn’t do was valued and loved.
This is the very way I perceive God’s love. Even in a time of wanting approval, there is underneath a knowing, a loving acceptance that is just there. It is not there because of a Father who lavishly says he loves, but then is never there when it counts, never demonstrates his love in actions, or who withdraws affection as a controlling tool of manipulation. It is there because of a Father who, no matter how shy about words of expression, put His love in me-unconditionally and without retreat.
Susan Ardith
From a story written on Thanksgiving 1994
