There are many aspects of God: All powerful King, Creator of the world, etc. but recently I have been thinking about what it means to me to have God as my parent.
I had a father who loved me, (but like most men born at the turn of the 20th Century), he found it really difficult to show his feelings. The ‘manly’ mask would occasionally slip a little if we were more than usually ill. On these very rare occasions Dad could show real tenderness. At all other times the mask stayed firmly in place. Dad also disapproved of Mum’s affection for her children, often accusing her of ‘spoiling’ us.
This was far from true: Although Mum was not only a really loving mother but also a very practical and optimistic one, (With 4 children, 2 of whom were disabled, during those dark days of the 1940s & 1950s, she had to be practical and optimistic!). Although Mum was very affectionate we were still not allowed to do just anything we wanted and were subject to the loving discipline that all of our peers were handed.
Whether we were children, teenagers or adults our parents were able to have a ‘particular’ love for each of their children whether we were good or bad, obedient or not. This love was strong enough for them to keep the differences and disagreements for when we weren’t around.
Anyone who was fortunate enough to have grown up as I did with at least one loving and responsible parent will recall how they cared for, protected and encouraged us as we grew in age and experience. They will also remember how as the years passed we were given more freedom to test ourselves and to take risks and to explore our potential.
These risks and explorations of course often led to minor disasters such as grazed knees, cuts and scalds, broken limbs and, perhaps later on even broken hearts! But our Mums or our Dads were always there; First to console and to tend any wounds and then to offer advice to try to help us avoid a repetition of the mistake. People who grew up in this way will also recall how; as childhood led to adolescence, (and rebellion), and finally adulthood the whole parent/child dynamic changed.
When we grew up the relationship with our parents grew into one of being ‘Best Friends’, (Especially with our ‘same gender’ parent); Going out, working, joking and doing things together or just enjoying each other’s company. In spite of the ‘best friends’ aspect of the new relationship it was however still very much one of parent and offspring. As adults we didn’t always follow our parents advice and they didn’t love us any less if we took our own way.
Of course I am fully aware that many readers did not have the advantage of a stable childhood; Many parents will not or can not put away their differences for the stability of the children. There are many pressures that weren’t around in the 1950s that can make a family dysfunctional and there are other tragedies that happen to prevent normal parent/child relationships developing in the same way that I was able to enjoy.
Leading on from all of this however my reason for writing a potted life history is not to add another few paragraphs to my autobiography.
My purpose was that I believe that, whether we had the advantage of a loving relationship with our parents or not, we all have a parent who gives us unconditional love:
Because of Jesus we are able to share that ‘Best Friends’, parent/adult child relationship that I shared with my Mum but so much more intensely.
No matter how disappointed He is with us, how much we hurt Him by our actions He is always ready to forgive us and welcome us into His arms. Even if we refuse to recognise His existence still He longs for us to come to Him and claim Him as our Father.
Once we recognise the price that God paid for us by the sacrifice of Jesus, showing His amazing love for us we can be assured of never being separated from His love and we can feel His comforting arms around us by the power of the Holy Spirit. Only then can we see our own little piece of the jigsaw-puzzle of this life and of eternity.
Our God is indeed a ‘Great Big God’ but He is also a loving, tender parent who will always be there for us.
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