Abba

"Abba." The young woman referred to God as Abba when she prayed. Abba means "daddy." I couldn't imagine doing such a thing. So, what was she thinking? How rude. Disrespectful. Arrogant. I mean I knew God. Back when I was a little girl, I gave my heart to Him. Because God is God. Father. Holy. Righteous. But "daddy?" Surely calling the Lord God Almighty "Abba" was over the top. Bordering on the unpardonable. Years later, I realized that I envied that woman and the way she so naturally called my Loving God "Daddy." But God worked with me. Loved me. Showed me mercy. Grace. Compassion. That I didn't deserve. He just kept right on, though. Loving His little girl. I watched as my darling husband loved our children. Unselfishly. Sacrificiously. Unconditionally. Still does. Always will. God showed me that's how a daddy should love. That's how He loves. Finally, I realized the real reason that I couldn't say "Abba." Fear. I was afraid of Him. I guess fear of my earthly daddy carried over to God. In some kind of twisted thinking. I embraced the truth of Psalm 25:15: My eyes are ever on the Lord for only He will release my feet from the snare. God wanted me to look at Him. Not at all of my fears. When I focused on Him, He released me from the snare. From the bondage of the past. Because Jesus took all of my sin and all of my fear to the cross, I can call my God. The Holy One. The Righteous One. I can call Him. "Abba." "Daddy." Sweet dreams, Deb