A little girl screams in the middle of the night because she is having a nightmare, Her Daddy comes running in there….picks her up in his big strong arms…and holds her tight. Comforting her the way only her daddy can. Wish that was my story.
I burnt my finger on my straightener the other day, so i run to my daddy with expectations of healing and comfort. Is that what i get?…No i hear yelling about how irresponsible i am and huffs and puffs about him having to help me. Then it hit me…Thats how i view God. I feel like when i come to God because i am hurting and my heart is soo broken, I just think he is going to scream and yell at me…asking why did you do that?….
Is that how God is?
Girls see God and think he is the same way as their earthly father. If you have had this amazing relationship with your father, then you view God like that…but if your dad drinks and yells and as no comforting words for you, that is how you view God. I was balling my eyes out yesterday because my daddy was yelling at me telling me how stupid i was and all this stuff. Immediately i pictured God doing that to me over a certain situation. but thats not how God is. I can come to him and say Daddy, i am hurting, My heart aches daddy….DADDY DADDY!!! HE comes running and picks me up in his arms, and holds me until i am at peace. Have you ever just said to God, “Daddy just hold me” ,Hold me daddy. The second you ask him to hold you…Man God comes running. I know this because he held me last night, as i just balled my eyes out, he wiped away my tears. WOW
Psalm 38
A David Psalm
1-2 Take a deep breath, God; calm down— don’t be so hasty with your punishing rod.
Your sharp-pointed arrows of rebuke draw blood;
my backside smarts from your caning.
3-4 I’ve lost twenty pounds in two months
because of your accusation.
My bones are brittle as dry sticks
because of my sin.
I’m swamped by my bad behavior,
collapsed under gunnysacks of guilt.
5-8 The cuts in my flesh stink and grow maggots
because I’ve lived so badly.
And now I’m flat on my face
feeling sorry for myself morning to night.
All my insides are on fire,
my body is a wreck.
I’m on my last legs; I’ve had it—
my life is a vomit of groans.
9-16 Lord, my longings are sitting in plain sight,
my groans an old story to you.
My heart’s about to break;
I’m a burned-out case.
Cataracts blind me to God and good;
old friends avoid me like the plague.
My cousins never visit,
my neighbors stab me in the back.
My competitors blacken my name,
devoutly they pray for my ruin.
But I’m deaf and mute to it all,
ears shut, mouth shut.
I don’t hear a word they say,
don’t speak a word in response.
What I do, God, is wait for you,
wait for my Lord, my God—you will answer!
I wait and pray so they won’t laugh me off,
won’t smugly strut off when I stumble.
17-20 I’m on the edge of losing it—
the pain in my gut keeps burning.
I’m ready to tell my story of failure,
I’m no longer smug in my sin.
My enemies are alive and in action,
a lynch mob after my neck.
I give out good and get back evil
from God-haters who can’t stand a God-lover.
21-22 Don’t dump me, God;
my God, don’t stand me up.
Hurry and help me;
I want some wide-open space in my life!