The arms of my Father

The times in my life that I have felt the most secure, guarded, and safe were times when I found myself within my Father's arms. My father was strong all of his life; he was athletic and active and just had this strength he exuded. It was more than physical strength, though, for he also had a strength of character.

That strength permeated our house, our family, and our very lives. I loved nothing more, when I was a little girl, than being engulfed in my father's hug. It was in those moments, that I knew that nothing in the world could ever get to me, no pain, no harm, and no heartbreak because if it tried to get at me, my father would shut it down. Even as I grew up, I loved my father's hugs. It didn't matter how tall I got or how old I was, there was this sense of home and security within those arms. When life was hard, those arms held me tight and his deep voice would speak straight to my heart as he said, "Punk. It's okay. I've got you. You can do this. It will get better. You are going to do amazing things because you care about people. So don't let this, right now, make you stop. Keep going. Love ya, Punk."

Fast forward a few years to when my Dad's time here was drawing to a close.  The last evening my father was conscious, up and moving, and talking, the time came to go to bed. I went to him for a hug and to say goodnight. He gripped me as tightly as he could and said good night. I turned to head towards the stairs and something within me made me stop and go back to him. I embraced him in a hug to the fullness of my strength and told him I loved him. He smiled and said, "Alright. That's enough now. Go to bed. I love you, Punk." How thankful I am for that embrace and his words. The next day, my dad spoke for the final time and began to go from this temporary place to our eternal home. Although, I gave my father more hugs during that time, that night before held the final embrace, the final impartation of strength and love in his hug and words.

In the days, months, and now years since his death, I have missed my Dad's words, his laughter, and his hugs. Very soon after my Dad died, I realized that I had to run to arms of my God, my Heavenly Father. The shelter, refuge, and quiet place I found therein was restorative and filling. In times of trial, heartbreak, disappointment, and betrayal, I run to the arms of the one who created me, the one whose strength is unfailing, and the one who uses all things for my good.

So no matter where you find yourself in this moment, know that you are not alone. You are not unseen. You are loved and our Father has his arms open to receive you, strengthen you, restore you, and love you. His arms are long and his embrace is large enough to meet every need. So, run to God; it is there strength, hope, peace, courage, deliverance, forgiveness, and love are found and sustained. The security and safety you are searching for is not found in the arms of another, in your financial stability, or your pride, it is found in the arms of our loving Father.