Running to Daddy

I’m sorry, Daddy.

The words come hard, almost a whimper.

I don’t want to see his eyes,

The look I know is waiting there.

Then the words fall.

Words I never want to hear,

But I earned them.

I’m disappointed in you.

I hang my head in shame.

Do you still love me? I ask.

What do you think? He says,

Tilting my chin in his hand

To look up into his soft eyes.

He holds my gaze for a moment,

While a glassy tear traces a line down my cheek.

It splashes on his finger

And I turn my head away.

I won’t let him see me cry.

He stands up tall.

I can feel his eyes on my back,

And I shrug to shake them off.

I will walk to my tree house,

To hide far away alone.

Every footstep beats the sound:

I made my daddy sad.

I shuffle my feet to make it stop.

Now the wind picks up the song,

Low and mournful like a sigh.

I made my daddy sad.

I’m not angry with you, He whispers.

I forgave you.

Tears well up again in my eyes,

And I don’t want to go away.

I brush my hair off my face,

And turn around to peek—

Daddy’s waiting,

His arms open wide,

For me.

I let him down.

Why is he still here?

A smile starts at my ears and grows big,

Making dimples in my chin.

Cause he loves me, always!

I throw back my head and laugh,

A big, giggly laugh,

Running to Daddy.

He wraps me in a hug

And we fit just right.

I love you for always, he whispers.

I know,

I say.

Faith is...

It’s dark. I see nothing, feel nothing but black air in my tentative reach. The only sound that comes is a deafening silence. I grip his hand a little harder, silently asking his help for the next step.

“Where are we going?” I ask. No answer. I suppose I don’t have to know the destination, just follow the One who does.

“Will the way be hard?” A pause. Then, “Yes.”

I think about this for a moment, a long moment. Fear enters my mind, little flickering demons that taunt the resolve of my courage.

“Will I be alone?”

His answer is certain and quick. “No, dear one. I will never leave you.” He squeezes my hand harder and I draw strength from his presence. With a sigh I lean my head on his arm, nestling into that place of safety and reassurance.

We walk a long time, and the way is hard just like he said it would be. There were rough places in the trail where my feet were knocked from under me, times when I was hurting and tired of going on, moments when it was all I could do to stand…but he never left me. I held his hand and trusted his heart, and somehow through the darkness we stepped out into the clean spring sunshine once again.

To be guided by a hand I cannot see / That’s what faith must be (Michael Card)