— Chapter Sixteen —
Lord,the news today about my dad hit me so unexpectedly. I feel like the inflatable Bozo punching bag. Wham! One more hit! Will there ever be a time I can stand without bobbing? When I will be out of range?”
“Emergency surgery” was the long-distance report I received from one of my dad’s close friends. “Your dad needs corrective surgery because of a blocked intestinal tract that has developed from his cancer surgery ten days ago.”
I swallowed hard, knowing that once again I had to face another unknown. With tears over my dad’s surgery, I knelt by my open bedroom window looking between the trees towards heaven. I didn’t want the leaves to block my view; I needed a direct line. I called His name and I was deeply connected to the One who loves me more than I’ll ever know. My heart began to settle down knowing that I was in His presence and could share the fear that was in my heart. I pleaded, “Please, Lord, don’t let there be another loss. Not now! I can’t bear to lose anyone else! I just can’t!
“Jesus, it must not be a coincidence that last week I thought about You in the Garden of Gethsemane. You were on Your knees when You cried out to the One who knows You most. You cried out to Your Father. There was no one else who could meet the needs of Your heart. Abba Father. Those tender words must have been spoken confidently yet so painfully between the Son and His Father, knowing what was ahead for You. Abba Father. The compassionate, loving and understanding heart of the Father heard His Son’s cry.”
Then God shared with me, “Donna, just because you are my daughter, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your heart, crying Abba Father.48
“Cry to Me!” God said.
“Abba Father…Daddy.” My cry was only a whisper, lest my voice turn to tears again. “Abba Father, please protect my dad.”
A telephone solicitor invaded these intimate moments. Exasperated at the rude interruption, I abruptly hung up and called to my Abba Father again.
The neighbor cranked up his mower, the engine rudely backfired into my window. That longing I had, like a child who has been hurt and needing to be comforted, was slipping away.
A continuous battle was being waged between the god of this world and the one who was on her knees. St. Paul wrote, “He is always wrestling in prayer for you, that you may stand firm in all the will of God, mature and fully assured” (Colossians 4:12 NIV). The enemy stalks a praying believer’s heart, waiting for opportunities to enter unnoticed.
“Press on!”49 I was reminded. “Resist the enemy and he will flee.50 Press on!”
Persistence allowed me to break through the barrage of noise and enter into the glorious place that was beyond the enemy’s reach. Subtle were the ways of this evil one who desperately tried to discourage me from spending time with my Abba Father.
I entered His courts where the angels continually sing praises to God.51 I came boldly to His throne of grace so that I could receive mercy and find grace to help me in my time of need (see Hebrews 4:16 NIV). There had been times when I entered with praise and thanksgiving, but today I burst in with tears and asked Him to watch over my dad. I could approach His throne because I am His child. I have His name. I belong to Him.
In the hours that followed the second surgery, I sat in the corner of the recovery room. A nurse cupped my dad’s hands around a pain button. “When the sharp pains come, just press this button,” she instructed.
As the hours passed, he would intermittently be awakened by pain. Groggily, he looked around the room, saw me sitting in the corner, and asked, “Are you still here?”
I responded by walking over to his bed and reassuring him, “Yes, Daddy, I’m still here. Go back to sleep.”
As I sat quietly, I thought how nice it would be if I had a “pain button” too. Whenever a wave of rejection swept over me, I could just press it and be powerfully inoculated. Even though life doesn’t offer such a dose, I needed to practice what my dad had done—to open my eyes and ask my heavenly Father, “Are you still here?”
His reply will always be, “Yes, Donna, I’m still here. You can rest now.”
Watching my dad in his senior years go through that ordeal was so hard. I wished I could have relieved some of his pain from his two surgeries in ten days. His recovery time was lengthy but successful. Three weeks were added to his hospital stay. After driving four hundred miles for six consecutive weekends to check on him, there was finally rest.
“Thank You, my Father, for giving me more time with my dad. And thank You, too, for helping me better understand what it means to have You as my Abba Father. Thank You for not becoming weary when I continually cry out to You. That’s what You want me to do, isn’t it, to come to You, the One who knows me intimately? And when I do, You tenderly lift my head52 with Your hands and smile as Your thumbs wipe away the tears that fall, assuring me that I am safe in Your hands once again. I am safe because You are my Abba Father.”
“But Jesus said, ‘Let the children alone and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these”’ (Matthew 19:14 NASB).
Copyright 2001, 2004 Donna Christensen
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Published Online by: The Biblical Reader
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