Good Father

He is God. Majestic. Almighty. Just. He sings over us.

He is Father. Daddy. Papa. ABBA.

He left the 99 and came looking for me. When He found me, He placed me on His shoulder, brought me safely home and all of heaven rejoiced.

To Him, I am a precious coin. When I was lost, He searched high and low for me. And when I was found, the Angels celebrated.

I was the prodigal son. Turned my back. Tried to do it on my own. Gave up on the Father. But he never gave up on me. He vehemently looked for me. He came running with a ring, a robe, and sandals (He knows his daughters like jewelry and shoes). He restored me into the family, forgave my transgression, and called me daughter. When I returned, there was a feast, a celebration in my honor.

I was the eldest brother. Offended by the Father’s grace. Demanding punishment for transgressors. But He came and pleaded with me and helped me understand His grace. He reminded me that I always have access to to His unlimited resources, His unlimited grace.

He is God. He Celebrates our victories. Love us in our transgressions. Forgives us in our failures. Reminds us we are His. Restores us when we return. He is a good, good Father.

Luke 15:1-32.