good, good Father

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djrY_eFDOwE

if you have 8 minutes, I literally beg you to listen to that. beg.

in case you do or in case you don’t, here are the lyrics.

oh, I’ve heard a thousand stories of what they think you’re like,
but I’ve heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night
and you tell me that you’re pleased and that I’m never alone

you’re a good, good father
it’s who you are, it’s who you are
it’s who you are
and I’m loved by you
it’s who I am, it’s who I am,
it’s who I am

oh and I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide
but I know we’re all searching for answers only you can provide
’cause you know just what we need before we say a word

you’re a good, good father
it’s who you are, it’s who you are
it’s who you are
and I’m loved by you
it’s who I am, it’s who I am,
it’s who I am

because you are perfect in all of your ways
you are perfect in all of your ways
you are perfect in all of your ways to us

oh, it’s love so undeniable
I, I can hardly speak
peace, so unexplainable
I, I can hardly think
as you call me deeper still,
as you call me deeper still,
as you call me deeper still,
into love, love, love

you’re a good, good father
it’s who you are, it’s who you are,
it’s who you are
and I am loved by you
it’s who I am, it’s who I am,
it’s who I am

because you are perfect in all of your ways,
you are perfect in all of your ways,
you are perfect in all of your ways to us


father

[fahth er] 
noun

1. a male parent.

2. a father-in-law, stepfather, or adoptive father.

3. any male ancestor, especially the founder of family or line; progenitor.

4. a man who exercises paternal care over other persons; paternal protector or provider: 
a father to the poor.

those words have sent me weeping today. I mean that in two ways – not that I’ve actually, physically wept, though I have cried. this morning, I just listened and cried – cried for the way that I am so loved and how I choose to ignore it more times than not. there’s weeping in my heart.

weeping for my inability to see the Lord as a good, good father. weeping for the way that I equate earthly fathers to this heavenly father than I am honored to call mine. weeping in the way that I am so screwed up, but he would still call me his.

this post isn’t about dads really. it isn’t about the greatness of or lack of in mine. it’s not about the terrible words I could say or the words of praise that I could say. it isn’t about the fathers of this world that do less than they need to or the rockstar ones that are so great. it isn’t about the way they need to rise up or the way that they’re doing so, so well. I could preach a lot on those topics, but I won’t.

this is about the way that I equate the fathers I see here with my heavenly father.

I don’t often, hardly ever in fact, think of the Lord as a Father. and when I do think of him that way, I quickly think of the men that I see here – men that make mistakes, men that get things wrong, men that don’t make the moves they need to to make things right. men that struggle with sin, men that hurt people. men that just don’t always get it right.

but the harsh reality that I need to learn is that my heavenly Father, my Dad, will never be like the men of this world.

the Lord of the whole early desperately wants for me to know that I am loved. since the beginning, his purpose has been to love us. my identity comes from Him and Him alone – the way that I am loved in Him and Him alone.

I guess that’s what sends me weeping. that’s what breaks my heart. the truth that I am so desperately loved, that all was given just for me to know just how I loved I am, and yet, I choose to be complacent in my own wallow.

this week has been hard. rephrase – this semester, this year, and this season. it’s been hard and I won’t sugarcoat it. lately, this week, my struggle has been with my worth.

like when I fail a quiz – Brenna, why can’t you just do better? like when I’m late to class – Brenna, why can’t you ever be on time? like when I spend too much money – Brenna, why can’t you budget better?
like when I forget to take my medicine and my day gets out of control. that was today. I spent the day being irritable, aggravated, annoyed, sensitive, crying. I literally debated on whether or not I had, in a day, become bipolar. hahahah. and it wasn’t until 6 o’clock tonight that I realized that, oh, I didn’t take my medicine. no wonder I’m a lunatic. but that only further strengthened my “why can’t I” mentality – Brenna, why can’t you be a functioning human without your medicine?

all of those sound ridiculous. I promise I know that. I get it, really, and I can read those words now and see how out of control I am being. and I apologize for the people rolling their eyes at my dramatics. but you know, it is what it is.

anyway. those are all the real feels. I think that self worth is a topic we don’t talk about enough. and I’ve always considered myself pretty content with who I am, until I realized that never being enough is also a form of terrible self love.

as you can imagine, the truth that I am loved more than I could ever love myself hit me like a freight train straight to my heart. wrecked by the thought that I am loved even in all my wandering, I wept.

so we weep. we weep together because we’ll never be enough, but we so are enough. we weep for all our inadequacies because they only further point us to the only one that is adequate enough. we weep for good days and bad days. we weep for the Father that we have, the Father that never gets things wrong.

and we beg. we beg for Him to be more than enough for us. we beg for Him to come and invade and rock it all for us. we beg for His presence because we are so not enough, but we know I am. and I am fixed and fixes it all.

here’s to good, good Fathers that loves us and tells us that that love is who we are.

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