“Our Father Which Art In Heaven . . .”KJV

By Randy Knapp

I had a good relationship with my father when I was a young boy. I called him daddy, and he called me kiddo. I used to love to watch him work with table saws, drills, and sanders as he built custom cabinets in our garage. I was captivated by his skills and his attention to details.

That relationship was cut short by his untimely death when I was eleven years old. At that time I didn’t understand the depth of my loss. I just felt confused.

Through my teenage years a few men stepped into the role as a father figure for me, but they weren’t “daddy.”

I heard preachers talk about the love of their Heavenly Father, how precious He was, and how much the relationship nurtured them. They were talking Greek to me.

I felt respect for Him, even a deep admiration, but my relationship with God was intellectual at best. There needed to be a polite distance between us. He was not “daddy” to me.

When I became a father I finally experienced the dept of unconditional love that a father can feel for a son. I wondered if I could vicariously experience the relationship I had lost with my father in the relationships of love I was developing with my two sons. Being a father opened up a new and marvelous world for me. My love for them was fierce, it was protective, it was gentile, it was powerful, and it was fulfilling. I hadn’t known that kind of love was even possible. But I still felt like a lost little boy in search of a father’s love.

A couple of months ago, at the urging of a friend, I read the book, “The Shack,” by William P. Young. In the book I saw, for the first time, what I yearned for in a relationship with a Heavenly Father. God revealed Himself as “Papa” to a deeply wounded man. It took significant effort on God’s part, but He finally won through and brought healing into the man’s life.

I listened to the book repeatedly on my IPod. Each time my heart dreamed of the possibilities of entering that kind of relationship. But I couldn’t make it work. There was an immoveable wall in my heart. Every time I tried to relate to God as my “Heavenly Daddy” or “Papa” it felt fake.

Last Tuesday night as I was going to bed I sensed in my spirit that God was speaking to me. I have a book by Oswald Chambers on my bed-side table titled, “Prayer, A Holy Occupation.” God seemed to be telling me to read from it. He told me my answer was on page 81. That seemed unnecessarily specific to me, so I asked Him if I was hearing Him right. “Page 81,” He repeated.

I found the page and began reading: ‘You say, “But I don’t feel that God is my Father.” Jesus said, “Say it.” Say “Our Father,” and you will suddenly discover that He is. The safeguard against moral imprisonment is prayer. Don’t pray according to your moods, but resolutely launch out on God, say “Our Father,” and before you know where you are, you are in a larger room.’

As I lowered the book I said the two words and felt God’s arms reaching out from heaven embracing me. He whispered, “I really can be your Heavenly Daddy. All you have to do is believe Me.”

I don’t yet know exactly how to move ahead, but I’ve begun taking my first steps, and I do believe.

If you are experiencing that same wall of separation, simply take Jesus up on His offer and say, “Our Father.” In time, each of us will see whole new vistas of hope and love open before our eyes.

Randy writes from Medford, Oregon. knappsnest@msn.com