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  • Writer's picturepratsboho


My father would've been 73 today, the 13th of September. And I remember him fondly and I used to call him daddy, but this is about someone Greater.

There are so many people who call God their Daddy and talk about how real He is to them.

And I used to envy them. Envy the ease of their relationship with the mighty God Himself. And I wondered why I never did feel like that.

God was my Helper, my Protector, my Provider... and He was my Abba Father in most songs I sang. But He wasn't my Daddy.

The last few months have given me an insight into why.

I watch my children's interaction with their dad and their step-dad and I see the sweetness of the promises and declarations of love they make to each other. The gentleness of their teasing. How these dads can firmly put their foot down when they need to, because just as staunchly they'll defend the kids too.

How the children demand of their time and have the demand met, because they honour the fathers with loyalty against all odds.

The times spent watching tv and laughing together, shouting over each other during a football match, joshing about during drives and fawning over each other's achievements.

The times when one of them plays referee between the kids and I.

The prayer cover that they provide the kids, the smiles the children bring to them.

This is what Daddy looks like.

And this is what I realised. My father loved me: I knew that from the provision and the protection his name brought to me growing up. But there was a reservation to our relationship. Like a normal Indian home I suppose. There wasn't the patriarchal domination, but hugs were scarce and awkward. My dad was a nice man, a good Christian, he took me places and gave me the best his money could buy, but there was a distance and an unfamiliarity and it stayed a pattern.

But worse than that? It created a pattern of how I saw God. There was honour, but no Worship. There was knowledge but no Dependence. There were prayers but no Intimacy.

But I thank God for His sweetness. Everyday is a new day, everyday is a new conversation and though my understanding of God as my daddy was new, God seeing me as His daughter was something He had planned from before my conception.

So now, the pattern is changed. I demand, I seek, I sulk, I thank, I cry, I praise, I worship and I love God. My Daddy.

P.S : If any of you need to talk to a friend about your relationship (or lack of relationship) with God, please do inbox me. My sweet circle of like minded, prayerful friends and I can keep you in our thoughts and keep it discreet.

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