In ten “sleeps” our youngest daughter and her boyfriend are flying into Florida from Washington State. (I’m happily wondering if he will request that “talk with Dad”?) My heart is so tender and excited for them to be under our roof! They are so loved that my arms are anxious to hold them tightly, something that happens maybe twice a year for me, but only once a year for hard- working dad! We have lived a continent away from our daughters for 6 years, so having one of them “home” is the biggest treat!
We have prepared the guest room and have little “love gifts” set aside for both our daughter and boyfriend, even small surprise Christmas stockings because she has so missed the family Christmas traditions. We’ve been planning favorite foods and, especially, another loved tradition: the Christmas Eve hors d’œuvres dinner! The car will be gassed up for the family trip to the beach to hunt seashells. I’m cleaning and often joke that I am “nesting” like a woman near birth!
For them to arrive here entails many steps that must be completed in order: saving funds for and purchasing plane tickets, each requesting time off from their separate employers, and continuing to work and pack until their departure date. Arriving at their airline gate consists of parking, wandering through the chaos of constant construction inside SeaTac airport’s terminal (I know it well—reminds one of third-world bedlam!), followed by the headache of snaking through TSA’s lines that are longer and less friendly than doing the Mouse in Los Angeles or Orlando! The five-hour flight in small economy seats is no picnic, either.
Oh! But their arrival means them falling into our hungry embraces with hearts bursting as we receive our children! Bringing them home, they will be surprised that the house is still decorated for Christmas, the tree is still up, and the house smells like Christmas because Mama boiled spices on the stove.
Long ago, Spurgeon said something so profound that I captured it in a screenshot yesterday so I wouldn’t lose it. Speaking of the transfiguration of Jesus and God’s declaration from heaven, “This is my beloved Son; hear him,” Spurgeon explained:
“If the Father says, ‘This is my Son,’ observe the graciousness of our adoption! With such a Son, the Lord had no need of children. He did not make us His children because He needed sons but because we needed a father.”
As the world gets darker, we, the Bride, often wail “How long, Lord?!?” We yearn to hear our upward call. But just as there is step-by-step order for our cherished daughter and boyfriend to arrive here in Florida, our heavenly Parent sees all the steps He has ordained that must be accomplished, in order, before He tells His Son “Go get Your bride!” With greater care than I could muster preparing my simple but sweet guest room, Jesus has been creating lodgings for us…in the Father’s house. The Father and Jesus both have gifts set aside for us that far surpass the small trinkets Hubby and I have wrapped for our kids.
What struck me this morning, and made the tears flow, is that this necessary march through time, following the order He laid out from the dawn of time, is not a matter-of-fact emotionless wait for our Father! Just as I am chomping at the bit to be with our children, the ultimate Parent is excited and looking forward to being with us! His big heart can’t wait to have HIS children under His roof. He longs to embrace us, love on us with special gifts, and see us marry His Son.
Oh friend, never think that the Father’s awaiting our arrival is passionless. Our Creator, Who crafted in earthly parents the deep longing to be with our desperately loved children, drew those emotions from Himself! Do you look forward to being stunned by the depth and many facets of emotions God the Father has for us? I do. Emotions that I, that we, have had no capacity to even imagine. We will get to spend eternity experiencing and comprehending different aspects of His love and emotion. Thank You, Father, for adopting us!
Walking with Jesus for 66 years and serving the Lord in varied capacities, Harriet Cook is the author of What Can I Do to Help Lazarus? Reaching Out with Knowledge and Compassion to Survivors of Domestic Abuse in our Congregations. Available on Amazon.
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