Battling a Father

God as "Father" is a powerful metaphor, one repeated often in Scripture. I believe it has proved effective for so many Christians because of the comfort they receive from knowing they have a perfect, loving father-figure who also just happens to be omniscient. One can walk around with confidence when possessing that kind of knowledge.

Lately I've approached my views on that relationship in a different way. Instead of the focus on this relationship coming from the perspective of the "child," I've come to appreciate the power of seeing this from the perspective of the father.

My focus on maintaining peace and joy regardless of circumstances this month, along with my exploration of the causes behind me losing these qualities, has led me to this view. Over the first half of this month, I've noticed that my misbehaving children are the most frequent trigger to me flipping out. On my last post I wrote that the true cause of anger is entitlement and unmet expectations, and that's the case here as well. It's just that this is lived out most frequently in my children, especially Elise at bedtime.

Elise, my 3 1/2 year old, is brilliantly wonderful and fantastic and unbelievably cute most of the time. And sometimes she's a demon. She's become a "battler" as of late. I don't handle this well. I like control too much, especially in my own home. Basically, she's got too much of her daddy in her.

I was venting about our recent battles to a friend who also has kids, and we both concluded that the best way to feel clueless is to be a parent. You try and fail, try and fail, and sometimes you never get it right. You strategize and use common sense, and it often rarely works. It's so frustrating: I'm working hard for her good, to make her life better, and she wants to do it her own way. That's when I thought about God.

This whole "God the Father" thing is perfect. This is exactly what God has to be going through on a second by second basis in all of our lives. If I am the kid, I am certainly no better than Elise. How often, I wonder, does God try and try and try to work for my good, only to be thwarted by my own stubbornness? How often do I throw my own little tantrum about something stupid just because I'm tired, need rest, and need to trust my Father?

I love thinking about the Almighty as my father. But I can't forget about the fact that that makes me the kid, the source of his righteous frustration. Keeping that in mind should make me a better father and child.