A Conversation with Father

So, this is a poem/dialogue that I wrote, because my heart was anguished by all the girls I've seen who think they can find real love in a guy, when it comes only from God.

A Conversation with Father

My Father is wonderful, sweet, loving,

I am grateful for His care.

But there are times, when,

His protection overwhelms me.

"My daughter?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Who was that man who was just with you?"

"a friend, Father."

My Father looks at me, concerned,

questioning.

"What does he want from you?"

Exasperating paranoia.

"Father, he's been so good to me!

He tells me how precious I am,

How beautiful,

How his love for me could not change,

How I deserve respect,

How I am worthy to die for..."

My Father's gaze has not left me this whole time.

His eyes seem to be glistening with - tears?

"Has he touched you, My daughter?"

...

How can I answer that?

I don't.

"My daughter, this man has disrespected you,

and even Me.

For even as I made you,

With all the care and tenderness in My heart,

He has dared to touch you,

Without coming to Me, your Creator, for permission.

Furthermore, he has dared to speak words to you,

That only I have made true."

The tears in His eyes have become tears in mine.

"Father, forgive me. He made me feel loved,

and I was deceived."

"My daughter, have you forgotten My Son?

The One who calls you precious?

Who made you pure and beautiful in My sight?

Whose love for you has never changed?

Who gave you respect?

Who proved your worth by dying for you?

With every lash of the whip that scraped blood across His back,

He thought of you.

With every pound of the nails into His hands and feet,

He thought of you.

As He hung there dying, anguished,

As you laughed in His face,

He cried out to Me,

'Father, forgive her. She doesn't know what she's doing.' "

Suddenly, I see Him, My Father's Son,

His hand held out to me, a hole made in it for me.

"This is My Son, who, owning the right,

Earned the right to

Hold you in His arms,

To be your Protector,

To love you,

If you will accept His offer."

"Thank you, Father."

Can You Resist This?

I want to start out by citing one of the many haunting quotes from my favorite book, a Chance to Die, by Elisabeth Elliot, a biography on Amy Carmichael. This quote is actually an excerpt from a letter Amy Carmichael wrote to home.

"You who can resist the half-articulate pleading of many and many a heart today,can you resist this? From millions of voiceless souls, it is rising now- does it not touch you at all? The missionary magazines try to echo the silent sob. You read them? Yes; and you skim them for good stories, nice pictures, bits of excitement - the more the better. Then they drop into the wastepaper basket, or swell some dusty pile in the corner. For perhaps "there isn't much in them". Very likely not; "there isn't much" in the silence any more than in darkness, at least not very much reducible to print, but to God there is something in it for all that. Oh! you - you, I mean, who are weary of hearing the reiteration of the great unrepealed commission, you who think you care, but who certainly don't, past costing point, is there nothing will touch you?"

As someone who has been given a great burden for the lost, I found this quote particularly convicting and disconcerting. The context of this quote is Amy Carmichael's earnest plea for prayer, which is a constant theme throughout her life. I was forced to face the awful truth of my lack of prayer for our missionaries, or really for any ministry. Do I pray for them? sure. But in light of this quote, in light of my supposed passion, do I pray as much as I ought? no. ouch. If we think this plea is particular only to the case of Amy Carmichael, we are fools. I believe that this need for support through prayer, for intercession, is in the hearts of all missionaries, of all ministers of God. How many times did Paul ask for prayer in the New Testament? How many times did he thank the church for their prayers? How is the church fufilling it's purpose on earth if it is not building up the church and adding to the church? Are our missionaries not the church? Have they not committed themselves to adding to the church? Where then is our greatest, most powerful source of support (prayer) to be seen? In the 12 people who show up to the missionary prayer meetings? I dearly hope not. However, my own attendance, or lack thereof, does not bode well. We would see a much more unified church, perhaps even a redeeming of who-knows-how-many-more souls, and far more encouraged and uplifted missionaries who can truthfully say that the church supports them well if we actually took the time to get down on our knees for our brothers and sisters every day and throughout the day.