My Father's Voice

Deuteronomy 8:3
...Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.

There were times during my childhood when my father would sit my brothers and I down at the dining room table on Saturday morning...to read The Bible. It wasn't an optional activity, if friends spent the night, they joined too. Each of us took turns wistfully glancing into the living room at the blank t.v. screen, Saturday morning cartoons were so close, yet so far away.

We started reading Genesis 1:1 and read straight through. Everyone would get their turn, the next week we would pick up where we left off. I don't remember how far we got, much to our relief, my dad was a little inconsistent in his spiritual discipline. I know that my dad has read the bible cover to cover more than once. I know that if you asked me today to recite the names of the first 14 books in order, I could do it without batting an eye. My dad taught me that, I bet his intention was to teach me all 66.

The wonderous thing about this experience, cartoons aside, is that even as a young girl, I was enthralled with the bible. It read like a novel to me, it was mysterious and exciting and I was sure that with each turn of the page something amazing would unfold. I loved the language of the King James Version, and the sound of the words in my father's voice. I was utterly convinced that God was speaking directly to me, and if parts were confusing or I didn't understand, it would all be revealed when we got to the end.

I feel the same, even more so, today.

Throughout my life, much like my father, I have turned and returned to this God-Breathed work, like a lost traveler trying to read a map that has been folded too many times. I know the answers are there, but the tighter I clutch it and the more intently I scrutinize it, the harder it is to see. In frustration and despair, I have given up. At the same time, no matter how lost I get in the distortions, many of which I have created...God reveals himself in the creases. There is always a whisper, a word, a sign, a crossroad, a direction...it is just not possible to open this book without the truth pouring out.

I am learning to rest in the word of God. I'm learning to quit grasping and analyzing and allow God's spirit to come through the pages. I am encountering not only the unfathomable character of Christ, but forming an intimately familiar relationship with him. I am learning who God created me to be and how to love others as I am loved.

I am learning to listen to the voice of my Father.

What I write here will be a reflection of the love of my Fathers. My Father God who created me with intention and purpose and is revealing himself to me in letters and verses. And my dad.

I learned from my dad that God is accessible and knowable. He taught me that God doesn't live in a building, God lives in scripture. He taught me that I am close to Moses and David and Peter and Paul, he showed me how to see myself in the lives of people who lived long ago. We are all woven together in God's story.

My dad opened my heart and inspired my passion for the Living, Breathing Word of God.