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Posts Tagged ‘our heavenly Father’

My husband started a certain family tradition many years ago when our three children were young. One by one, he would take them out for a special dinner date. The chosen venue was never anywhere too expensive—when we lived in Adelaide, a favourite haunt was a pancake place called ‘Bertie’s’, which the children all thought was wonderful, considering their dad’s students often called him ‘Dr Bertie’ at that time! Yet whatever the venue, whichever child whose turn it was would dress up in their best clothes and feel so important, as they headed off on their ‘date’ with Dad.

In more recent years, my husband has continued this tradition with our four grandchildren. Sometimes, the chosen venues have been truly exotic—venues such as … um … er … Maccas! But currently, our two younger grandchildren love a certain café near the Nepean River at Penrith that serves extremely tantalising drinks, donuts and desserts. And, since the meal is their choice, this is what they get!

Recently it was eight-year-old Maxine’s turn to go out with her eighty-one-year-old Granddad. When he asked her, her response was, ‘Ooh, I’m going out on a date!’ Great excitement ensued—along with the satisfying thought that her brother would be ‘sooo jealous’!

The evening duly arrived—and yes, Maxine chose that favourite café by the river and that favourite milk shake for dinner, with a big donut perched on top of the container and a straw threaded through the hole into her drink. As well, she was allowed the important task of ordering the food herself and paying for it with her granddad’s credit card, while he watched on.

In my own growing up years, my times with my grandfather definitely did not involve dining out at cafes. Instead, we would often go walking on a Sunday afternoon when he and my grandmother would come for a visit. In my mind, I can still see his white hair and his erect figure, as we strode along and chatted. One of our favourite places to walk was, believe it or not, to the Toowong Cemetery, not far from our home in Brisbane. We would comment about all sorts of things we saw on gravestones there and I’m sure he sought to impart much wisdom to me during those times.

I am not saying God is some grandfatherly figure, sitting on a throne in the sky, smiling and nodding benignly. But I would like to suggest that God’s heart is to invite each one of us on a ‘date’—that is, a time when we put other things aside in our lives and, instead, delight in simply being with our heavenly Father. When we do, we find God has a wonderful feast laid out there for us. And there is such joy too in simply being together with God, knowing we are loved and accepted completely, just as we are.

But you would be fed with the finest of wheat; with honey from the rock I would satisfy you. Psalm 81:16

Why would we ignore those special ‘dates’ or times with God? Why would we ever stand God up, so to speak? Instead, let’s turn up—often. Let’s accept God’s invitation. And let’s drink deeply from all the love and wisdom God showers on us as we do.

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Jo 17I wonder if you like the sound of your name. Perhaps it depends on who is saying it or the context in which it is being said! If it’s someone such as a cross schoolteacher singling you out for some misdemeanour, as I well remember happening to me, your name might grate on you a little. But if it’s a good friend greeting you after not seeing or hearing from you for some time, then that might be a different matter.

I look forward to hearing my name spoken whenever I call a dear older friend. ‘Hello, Jo-Anne—how lovely to hear your voice! How are you?’ she always says, with such unfeigned joy and delight that my heart feels as if it is melting. And I remember how, many years ago, a young minister at our church went to the trouble of asking me whether I preferred to be called ‘Jo’ or ‘Jo-Anne’. Now I don’t really mind being called ‘Jo’—after all, that is what my husband and almost everyone else has called me for years! But I told him I preferred ‘Jo-Anne’, because it seems just that bit softer and more feminine to me. From then on, he tried hard to remember to call me that. And when he did, I was touched and felt respected.

I thought of this again recently when I read the story of the resurrection in John 20. As I often try to do, I imagined myself right in the middle of that scene at the tomb when Mary Magdalene discovers Jesus is no longer there. She is devastated because she believes someone has taken his body and, in her distress, does not immediately recognise Jesus when he speaks to her. But what a moment that must have been when she hears him say that one word that must have said so much to her—Mary (20:16)! Can you imagine it?

I wonder what tone of voice Jesus used when he said her name. Was it soft and tender? Was it loud and commanding, concerned to make her realise who he actually was? Did it convey joy and delight that she had come, wanting to attend to his body? Did it show something of his pride in her that she was faithful to the end? Perhaps it conveyed trust as well, because as soon as Mary realises who he is, Jesus goes on to give her a message for the other disciples:

Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” John 20:17

One thing I know for sure. Jesus spoke Mary’s name with amazing love. And today, two thousand years later, Jesus continues to speak our names with that same love, calling us back into relationship with our heavenly Father and into his own family, the family of God. How privileged we are that he knows our names and that we too can hear our Shepherd’s voice, speaking to us by his Spirit, guiding and strengthening us day by day!

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. John 10:27-28

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