It's Me, Dad
“And I will be a Father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to Me, says the Lord Almighty.” 2 Corinthians 6:18
I’ve been desperate for my daughter’s healing from autism for many years and it seems there’s been greater intensity surrounding it this year. The spiritual warfare has increased and that’s tested my faith more than I could begin to tell you. All year, I’ve been actively assessing my unbelief as it emerges when my daughter overcomes hurdles and also when she experiences set-backs and new challenges. My expectancy for her healing skyrockets in both of those circumstances and yet, here we are after many valleys and peaks, and her full deliverance has not yet come. So many have prayed for her and I’ve been stretched in the spirit to testify on her behalf in faith that God is continuing to build this cloud of witnesses around her. Sometimes even when we’ve positioned ourselves to see Jesus come through, there’s a nagging voice that interrupts those quiet, still moments. It never stops trying to steal from my hope and it raises questions within me as to whether I’m in the way of her breakthrough or that perhaps there’s something more I should be doing for her. But even in those storms of the mind, there are times when God reveals Himself and it stops all voices from speaking, as His actions have a way of leaving our loud world at a complete loss for words. And if we’re really listening for Him, He calls to us from burning bushes in the hearts of His children.
I saw the blazing heart of a father’s great love Sunday night and it’s been burning in me ever since. The evening started off with powerful worship pulsing through the sanctuary followed by a call to the altar for anyone dealing with a tormenting spirit. As many stepped forward, I felt compelled to join them, but I stayed where I was. As one man yelled from the depths of his soul, “Lord, please heal me! I’m broken!” my own heart cry joined his as it ascended into the throne room of God. Immediately, I felt the dark spirit flee by the sound of agreement with that saint’s public confession. Then, an atmosphere of repentance broke out and many were set free by the blood of the Lamb.
An hour later, I was standing in the baptism pool when a beautiful family stepped into the water. They came for many reasons, but one of them was healing for their autistic son, who was 20 years old. He was non-verbal and appeared very anxious and uncomfortable. I listened intently to every detail they shared with the minister as I could feel the presence of God so tangibly around them. As they took turns speaking, I watched the father stay close to his son, keeping his hands upon him in various ways as to reassure him of his safety. The calming effect of their relationship soothed something inside of me. Then, I heard it. The voice of God spoken to me through a tender moment between a father and son. He leaned close to his son’s ear and said, “It’s me, Dad.” Tears welled up and I felt my own ear tingling with this heavenly reminder of how much He loves us and how He chooses to meet us in these chaotic moments of awkward surrender where everyone is vulnerable and our weaknesses are on display. When the whole world can look upon our desperation having no true understanding of what it takes to physically travel and arrive with a child who lives a restricted life …and we show up clinging to a prayer that maybe, just maybe, this will be the day of its answer.
It was one of those moments where I stood back and I saw my own life in a glorious light. We are under a fountain of Heaven that I didn’t even realize we lived beneath, because unbelief and weariness had become an umbrella over me. Those words, “It’s me, Dad,” were a torrential rain in my soul that washed away everything keeping me from the full embrace of my Heavenly Father. It was those very words that restored my faith and reopened my eyes to Who He is and how He has never left my side. And it filled me from top to bottom with a radiant joy that no matter who gets healed or who doesn’t, God is with us and His love is more than enough.
I’m praying for you right now that you hear for yourself in very close proximity to your heart, “It’s me, Dad.” When you do, may you close your eyes and rest in the overwhelming truth that your Father loves you and He is oh so near. And from that eternal encounter, may your life become a burning bush the Father speaks from and is glorified within all of your days. Amen.