Lord, art thou in the room?
Come near my bed; oh, draw aside the curtain!
A child’s heart would say Father, were it certain
That it would not presume.
I was reading a poem from George MacDonald about God’s Fatherhood (quote above). It’s a very sweet poem that expresses the longing of a child to his Father. It made me think about my need of a father. Growing up as a child, I was basically on my own. I had sisters, the older ones that watched over me. My mom worked at the meat market all day and I saw her when she came home. But she was busy, making dinner and doing other chores. There were no conversations with her or with any of my sisters. I had a friend with a nickname ” Toño. He was older than me. We did things together, but I was very independent. I remember roaming in the canyons, exploring nature, climbing trees, herding neighbor’s animals.
But I had no father. I’ve never had the privilege of calling anyone “Dad,” or “Father”. I met my “father “when I was a teen, 13 or 14, not sure. He came to visit us when we were living in Santa Ana, California. I didn’t have any long conversation. I didn’t see him as my father. He looked like a stranger to me. It was when I was engaged to my wife that I went to talk to him. I discovered how much I resembled him in spite of the fact that I never lived with him. I went to see him a few more times and took my son to meet him. We had conversations. I don’t recall calling him “Dad” (Papi). I saw him one last time when they had his memorial in 2013(I wrote about it here). My then adopted 4-year-old daughter met her “abuelo.” That was it!
So back to fatherhood. This poem made me long for my Father as a father. MacDonald puts God as that father we all long here. The father near us, comforting us, protecting, making us feel completely secured. There isn’t of course a perfect father here, but we all need one. Those of us who never had one are left with a sense of loss. As much as we know God as our Father, we cannot help to feel the emptiness, the “open” place left in our lives. We long for his touch, his comfort, his example and his words of encouragement. Many times, I have met some good fathers and wish they had been mine. But for now, till then and forever God is my Father. He calls himself the father to the fatherless. I am one.
