I am my Father's daughter

If you have ever gone to a certain point in life when everything seems for nought, then you have walked my shoes. Name it--indifference, disappointement, frustration, confusion, alone. It seems like you're just waiting for heaven to come, so what's the point of working to live here on earth? I had every argument of despondency available, yet too tired to bring it to words. Too alone. Too fatigued. I found myself wondering if my Father was indifferent, that I had to scream in His ears to hear me. But I was too tired to ask for help. I mean, is this how He is? If I don't ever have victory over my sin, my sadness, my bad habits, what's the unending cycle for? I have to scream for Him to hear me? I felt that He didn't care, well, that's not entirely accurate. I felt that He wasn't being proactive about being my Father, I mean, if He knew what I was made of and what I needed, and how I was feeling, and how much I needed Him, why is He asking for more energy that I didn't have? Let's face it, who can understand the ways of our Father? I had never been in such pain about Him in my lifetime. This was the first encounter.

And He is our Father, indeed. There are incorrect ways of seeing Him, and we must learn the right character if we are to live. I'm happy to say that He is indeed Fathering me. When He foresaw that I would lose my energy, He sent someone to love me and pray for me, and care about me, and wasn't going away. I pray that He would open my eyes and my heart to accept this gift in accuracy.

Thank You, my Father. My Father indeed.