I’ve told you about my dad— how, without actually meaning to, he’s shaped my faith in God.

(my daughter, Rebekah and my dad)

My dad has shown me in his own way— in his way with me, how the Father is.

How He loves…

How He welcomes…

How He wants to be with me on those early, intimate mornings.

Because of Dad, trusting God has been, if not exactly easy, at least simple for me.

One night, many years ago, when my old nemesis, Fear, started to choke the joy out of my daily life, the memories of my dad’s way with me broke those chains…

It was late and I lay in bed wide-awake. Alone and afraid.

My husband traveled as a part of his job in those days, sometimes for weeks at a time. On this night he was an ocean way, unavailable, unreachable, unable to calm me down or cheer me up. I’d suffered the insomnia of fear every night he was gone.

Too exhausted to sleep, too afraid to allow myself to rest, my façade of courage was crumbling.

My fear teetered towards terror.

A deaf woman alone at night with three children sleeping blithely in their bedrooms— every possibility presenting itself in colored array as I desperately prayed those demons away.

What if someone breaks in the house? Would I hear them? No.

What if there’s a fire? Would I hear the alarm? No.

What if someone big and mean and bad comes barging in the front door… no, no, no!

I can’t hear! I can’t protect my children! I can’t be safe!

I sat awake, hearing aids at full volume, baseball bat at hand.

I prayed, of course. 

Desperate liturgies for protection: for angels, for hedges, for walls and warriors to watch over me.

And I laugh a little now, but at the time, that helplessness felt immensely more real than any assurances of the safety of my neighborhood or the ridiculousness of my fears.

Yet still…in spite of the unreasonableness of my angst, God brought Himself into my runaway fears.

Instead of scoffing: You’re a grown-up, Di, get over it!

Instead of shame: Where’s your faith?

Instead of platitudes: Angels are watching over you…

He reminded me of my dad.

Every night when I was growing up, my dad walked through our house just before going to bed. He checked doors, turned down the heater, closed windows, peeked in on each of us kids.

Making the rounds like a night watchman.

Making sure I was safe.

Making me feel safe.

Never once, in all my years at home did I beg Dad to take care of me. I didn’t plead for protection from the invisible bad guys. Didn’t remind him to lock up. Didn’t keep a baseball bat close just in case.

Why?

I didn’t need to ask for protection because I slept close to my protector.

God, I realized, is just like my dad!

In fact, I began to suspect that all my begging might be an insult to Him. Of course He’s watching over me! 

Instead of desperate rituals of praying for angels to surround me, instead of walking through every worry, and making sure He knew all about how He should handle it, and why, and what I wanted Him to do…

Maybe I should just thank Him for all the nights He’d watched over me.

Just like Dad.

Years and years and decades of nights. No bad guys, no break-ins, no monsters under the bed.

Just my great big God watching over me while I slept.

I drifted off to sleep that night whispering thanks.

And every night after that, whenever the reality of being a deaf woman alone started to feel unsafe, whenever fear threated to keep me up, I felt that grip of safe assurance— of my Father being just like my dad—steady, dependable, present.

He loved me… just like Dad.

He was up to the task of taking care of me… just like Dad.

I could practically feel Him locking up tight, making the rounds, checking in to be sure I was okay… just like my Dad.

My dad spent all my growing up years watching over me. Sometimes in simple ways like locking up at night. Sometimes in harder-to-swallow ways like restricting my freedom lest my naivete leave me unprotected.

I wasn’t always grateful. I didn’t always understand. I wasn’t always nice about not understanding. In fact, he could tell you stories about me not being nice or grateful or understanding…

But that didn’t stop him.

Because my dad cared enough to take care of me… and so does my Father.

From my heart,

Diane

THINGS MY DAD GOT RIGHT:

1.    He watched over me.

2.    He was there— down the hall, next to mom, no matter what.

3.    He didn’t mock my fears.

4.    He kept watching over me even when I didn’t think I needed him.

5.    He showed me what the Father is like.

P.S. Have you learned some things about the Father from your dad? Can you tell us what?

Or are you just now learning that the Father is different than the way your dad was to you? That He loves in a way your dad was not able to love?

She senses that her gain is good; Her lamp does not go out at night.

Proverbs 31:18

Dearest son,

It is early as I write these words. The summer sun is just tinting a smattering of wispy clouds with the barest glimmer of translucent light. I sit outside watching the world awake.

Upstairs three of my grandchildren lie sprawled in that deepest of slumbers only happy children know. They are safe and they are loved and they know it.

When they wake up they’ll clamor for more of the fun that comes from having a Pops who is still a kid at heart. Maybe they’ll want “awful waffles” (Phil’s title for frozen waffles in a box) for breakfast. Or a sip of “Pop’s wa” (the sparkling water Phil drinks). And they’ll ask with confidence, knowing full well that these two grandparents pretty much never say “no”.

I think we used up that word on our four kids and now just don’t have the heart to ever say it again!

Jude and Mo and Sunday have absolute confidence in our love for them. They know beyond even the slightest doubt that we have their best interests at heart, that we want only good for them, that we will go to great lengths to make sure they have all they need and more.

They are safe here, fully able to rest and be who they are. Confident.

And that is what I want to talk to you about today, Matt.

Confidence.

Your dad and I have laid a foundation of safety and security for you. By God’s grace our home has been a place of refuge—far from perfect, but fully stable.

Unlike so many fathers, your dad has been faithful and present. He has fulfilled his role as Priest of the home, as Provider for his family, and as Protector of all of us. You have a rare gift in that, Matthew.

But now you are launching out on your own.  You have to carve your own way, make your own decisions, choose for yourself how you will live.

You will no longer have your Dad just a few feet away to warn you of danger, nor will I be there to soothe away the hurts that come from living in a world of sharp edges and bumpy roads.

But you will have Jesus. That One who is your real safety, who is always watching over you, who fully knows who you are and who you can be.

He knows how He wants to use you in His story of redemption for a world that needs more of those stories in real time.

My son, if you will live fully in the presence of this One, if you will place all your hope and confidence in Him, inviting Him into every aspect of your life, then and only then will you experience the confidence that comes to those who revere Him. “For the LORD will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught.” Proverbs 3:26

A man or a woman who places their entire confidence in God is neither insecure nor dependent on others for approval. Such a man or woman has this underlying sense that “her gain is good” Proverbs 31:18. She does not have to prove herself or boast about her accomplishments. Such a man knows that he is on assignment from God, that he has work to do and if he does it well and faithfully he will hear just the sweetest echo of the words he longs for: “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” And that’s all the reward he craves.

Only a close and honest walk with God can give you that kind of confidence, Matthew. Not perfect grades, not stellar reviews, not pats on the back from important people.

You will never be as good nor as bad as some people will paint you to be.

But if you will learn to put your confidence, your sense of who you are as a man, in God—if you will look to Him for approval, knowing His grace covers you and carries you where you lack—then you will experience that same sense of safety and well-being my grandbabies are experiencing right now.

Perfect rest. Trust. Peace.

And Matthew, marry a woman who has found that same confidence in the only One who can give it fully. Do not marry a woman who looks to you for her sense of self or beauty or approval or worth. Do not marry a woman because she makes you feel better than you are. Marry someone and be someone who is safe simply because you have found real safety in Jesus’ startling love for you.

How will you spot that kind of woman?

Here are some  questions to ask yourself as you watch her life (and your own!):

1. Is she the same person no matter who she’s with?
2. Does she get her feelings hurt easily? Or do you get mad easily?
3. Does she have a sense of purpose? Do you?
4. Does that purpose help her/you make wise choices?
5. Is she able to be a graceful woman in intimidating social situations?
6. Is she able to follow with finesse or does she control and manipulate to get her way?
7. Does she/do you need the limelight? Or can she/can you let others shine?
8. Does she/do you need to be right all the time?
9. Is she interested in other people? Does she ask questions about them, about you?
10. Is she proud of you?

Last night on the way home from church, your dad showed me in full color what this confidence in the Lord looks like. He’d just finished preaching four times throughout the day. He was tired, poured all out. But instead of giving in to his need for quiet and rest and assurance that he’d done well, he became a human juke box. First Jude requested a song, then Moses. Sunday got to shaking her imaginary maracas as Phil launched into all their favorites.

This man who had spent his day preaching to thousands, gave his night to singing to a rapt audience of three.

Why? Because his confidence, his sense of who he is, has been fully formed by Jesus. Whether waxing eloquent about the true definition of joy found in Philippians or showing the true meaning of joy to three giggly grandchildren, your dad knows he is honored to serve His Savior.

That’s what this looks like, son. May you know such soul-lifting confidence in your Savior and may you find a wife who knows it too.

From my heart,

Mom