I love babies! This week Nathaniel, a six month old little boy, stayed at my house. For the first few days he looked at me as though I had no right to invade his space. By the time he left this morning, he seemed to have accepted my presence and even enjoyed helping me hang the washing.
There is something about little people that make grown men soft and squishy. I watched his hands-on Dad prepare bottles, feed him sweet potato and put him to sleep. But most of all he stopped and played with him every time he walked past. I captured their relationship in this picture this morning.
The baby is overshadowed, encircled by his Daddy. Yet he is still free to move. He could roll if he wanted to of wriggle out of the way. But why would he? He lays looking at his fathers face, memorising every line, soaking up the obvious love that blazes from his father eyes.
Nathaniel is nearly a miniature clone of his old man, long and lanky, same colouring, same face, same eyes. He's made in his fathers image. He has the same DNA.
Likewise we are made in the image of God. We have His nature, His gifts, His character. We grow into His authority, His creativity. The bible tells us that unless we are born of the spirit and come as a little child we can't enter the Kingdom of heaven.
Nathaniel was born into his family. He will always belong. Even if he leaves home for a season, he will always be a part of that family. And he came as a little child. He costs his parents money, time, love and energy. They  are delighted to be able to lavish him with their devotion.
Just like God! I love to think of God overshadowing me, guarding me and protecting me just as Nathaniel's dad does. What security is mine! The God of the whole earth loves me and stops to spend time with me, just because I am His and He delights in me. He calls me by name and as I look up I can see the love in His eyes. Yes, it's good to be one of God's kids!

My Daddy and I

When I was a girl, my Father would often open the casement window over my bed at daybreak. ‘Jocie, would you like to come and milk the cows with me?’

His invitation broke my deep sleep, but I most times would bound out of bed and meet him outside within minutes. My Daddy wanted me! 

Sometimes the invitation would be issued before I went to bed. ‘I’ve a big day tomorrow. Would you like to help me milk in the morning?’ And I did, but to be woken by his voice outside my window was special.

I was blessed with a great Dad, but he betrayed me when I was fifteen. He left and he didn’t even say ‘good-bye’. I farewelled him as best I knew how as I stood in the rain and watched them lower his coffin into the ground. But I was bereft.

Raised a Christian, I finally understood the necessity to personally accept Jesus’ sacrifice when I was nineteen. I served my God, but never could believe he loved me. It was twenty five years before the hound of heaven finally broke through the shell around my heart and I had to accept He loved me–not just everyone else–but me.

Many mornings, my heavenly Dad opens the window of my soul and invites me to walk with him. Just as milking with Dad was never a chore, it was time together, so I love being with my Father. He paints the sky different colours everyday for me, varying the shades of the greens of the trees so that no two mornings are ever the same. He has led me to hidden flowers so I can pick them, showed me the new born clutch of ducklings, pointed out the koala with her baby on her back.

One morning during a solo retreat He woke me, asking me to walk. I was tired, but He was persistent. I walked two kilometres through the bush to a high hill that overlooked a large dam. Then he showed me. In the valley, rising out of the mist, was a pure white rainbow! In awe I watched until it faded. He pointed again and I looked down. A tiny circular, coloured rainbow, about a metre across, was below me in that valley. You see my Daddy just happens to be the creator of the world!

My Daddy invites me to do things with Him, but he never demands. He gives me wise advice, but I don’t have to follow it. He offers me lavish gifts, but I don’t have to open them. He has given me a powerful sword but it is my choice to pick it up. I wear His ring, but He asks me to use it at my discretion.  My choices never change His amazing love for me.

Yes, my Daddy loves me, and as when I was a child, I’m His favourite!