Thursday, January 7, 2016

Going To My Father's House.

My granddaughter was playing on big pile of dirt, enjoying the simplicity of things that children seem so easily to enjoy. We were on my road that lead through the woods. I was there with her, dozing in my truck to protect and defend if necessary, or just to watch and care. We were safe here in this part of the world; this little island of security in an insecure and unsettled world. My eyes opened when I heard a voice. It was my granddaughter's voice; a quiet tone, singing I am going to my Father's house. There in the woods on this dirt pile, with her grandfather being near, she felt safety,security, and comfort in the midst of all that is wrong in the world.

We are His children, and even in this place and time, our Father "neither slumbers or sleeps." He is watching over us as we play out our lives on our little hills of this world. We are HIs: "in this world but not of it" and our ultimate security is not our little islands in a forest but within His everlasting arms. In the same manner that I was standing watch for my granddaughter, our Heavenly Father is standing watch for us as we continue on our journey through this world, going to our Father's house.