[Faith-talk] Morning Thought for Sunday, June 9, 2013

[Debby Phillips]

Thanks for sending this article.  I don't remember running like that to my dad like that but how much I need to run to my Abba and feel His arms around me.  God bless.   Debby  from my iPhone

On Jun 9, 2013, at 8:06 AM, "Paul" <oilofgladness47 at gmail.com> wrote:

> Hello folks.  This will replace the daily thought message for today, as I'm going out at 4 p.m. and don't know when I'll be back.  But, since I have some time before I leave for church, I thought to post this article for you on this Lord's Day.  It's entitled "Running for Daddy" by an unnamed author, but it is rendered as follows:
> 
> When I was a little girl, just a skinny little beanpole with pigtails, I used to run to my Daddy for comfort.  I was a tomboy who consistently fell out of trees, got into fights, and crashed my bicycle.  It seemed that I was forever bloodying those poor, banged-up knees of mine.  That's when I would runn--with pigtails flying and dirty tears streaming down my face--to my daddy.
> 
> "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"
> 
> And I'm so fortunate, because I had a daddy who held me.  Ever since I was a little girl until the day he went to be with the Lord, I was always his little sweetheart.  And I would fly into his open arms, and he would gather me up on his lap--dirt, blood, and all--and hold me there.  And he would wipe my tears and push back my pigtails and say, "Now, Honey, tell Daddy all about it."
> 
> Many years later, I was hurting again, so very deeply.
> 
> But I couldn't run to my daddy.
> 
> I was a single mom with two little kids, trying to work and go to school.  And it was one of those days when everything seemed to catch up with me--all of the hurt and loneliness and regret and pressure and weariness.  I remember driving into the driveway of the little brick home where we were living.  I got out of the car and began walking down the little gravel walkway toward the front door.
> 
> For some reason, time seemed to stand still for a moment.
> 
> To this day, I can't tell you what triggered the thought, but suddenly--in my mind's eye--I saw something.
> 
> I saw a little girl, running.
> 
> I saw a little girl with tears streaming down her face and banged-up bloody knees on those skinny little legs.  I saw her in need of her daddy.  Running for her daddy.
> 
> Then suddenly--strangely--I saw her running down a huge, shiny corridor.  A vast corridor with gleaming marble walls and beautiful windows spilling heavenly light.  And at the end of that marble hallway were massive doors of brilliant gold.  Standing before those doors were bright, powerful guards with spears.
> 
> And I knew that the little girl was me, and that I was running toward the very throne room of God, sovereign ruler of the universe.  Yet, I was the daughter of the King of Kings, so when the guards saw me coming, they swung open those doors and let me run in.  There I was, weeping and running into the very presence of God.  I heard the cherubim and the seraphim crying out, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory!" Many bowed before the throne, and court was in session, but I just ran and ran and didn't stop.
> 
> I could just see myself running up the wide stairs to that glorious throne--two steps at a time--crying, "Abba, Father, Daddy!"
> 
> And I could see Him stopping everything, opening His arms wide and just gathering me to His chest, saying, "There, there, My precious child.  Let Me wipe away those tears.  Tell your Father all about it."
> 
> Wow, but what a story by an unnamed female author! I hope and pray that this brought back memories of good times that we all had with our fathers, especially if they went home to be with their Lord.
> 
> And now until tomorrow when, Lord willing another daily thought message will be presented, may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last evil days in which we live.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul
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