Some of you might not know this about me, but my father passed away about 8 months ago, And although he was a GREAT man and i loved him very very much, his fathering skills sometimes lacked here and there, to say the least, which left me at the bottom of the mountain - longing for the love that makes you shout it from the mountain tops, but lacking the love that gets you there.
Throughout my life i had never met the Father, never allowed myself to see Him as a loving, caring, devoted Father, because of the lack in my life.
I longed for fathering and loving discipline. I had believed my entire life that i could never have that, but still hoped for it.
The fact that my father then passed away i let go of that hope all together.
I knew there was something missing. I knew there must’ve been a path to get to the mountain tops, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. At least I expected there to be a path.
Little did i know that the mountain had to be climbed with no path, no shoes, and no map. Just trust, holding on, and keeping your head up.
Throughout this thorny, messy, difficult climb I encountered people who love me dearly, although i might not always love them back.
I encountered scenery that makes me shiver all over.
I encountered skies bluer than blue and sunsets I’m not even going to begin to explain.
I encountered flowers and flowers and flowers. Some already blossomed, some only starting to bloom.
And I encountered the Father.
The beautiful thing about a love so vast it makes you want to shout it from the mountain tops, is that you need the mountain and you also need the love, in order to do that.
The climb to the mountain tops made me realize that the Father meets you when you least expect it. And when He does. He wrecks you in such a way that the only question you’ll forever be asking is: “how have i been living without You?”
The Father met me, as He promised, and He showed me love that i could never experience on this earth. He showed me a love for my earthly father and the beauty of loving someone broken.
He showed me the immense contentment one can have when you let the Father in, and let Him wreck you the way He wants.
Now I’m shouting from a mountain top, my mountain top, and I’m never going back.