When I get home from work each day, my beautiful little girl shouts my name. Not my given name, nor one I’ve earned. But a name that goes deeper then either of those could go. Daddy. She runs to me because I’ve been gone. My presence and attention have been somewhere else. On something else. But my affections are still wrapped around that little girls heart, and hers on mine.
When we think about God, we often think about Him as father, and hopefully we also come to think of Him as daddy. But there is a big difference between His role as daddy and mine. In fact, in the spiritual reality, my daughter has more in common with his daddy role than I do. Because, like her, He’s waiting for us.
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.
God dwells deep within us. We are the house. But we constantly leave the house. We forget him. We let life and circumstances oppress our spirits, and rejection and shame overwhelm our hearts. We fill our mind and emotions with distraction, and we don’t actually spend much time actually inside the flaps of the tent He’s given us. But when we finally turn to come home–when we close our eyes and take the many long moments it requires to still our hearts before Him and listen for His voice, He comes running, shouting our name in joy. That’s the only place we can be transformed. And the only way we can take something back out of the house to give to others (Matthew 13:52).
God wears sneakers. And He’s ready to run to you. But you have to walk through the door…
So when’s the last time you “came home”? What was it like?