A Father's Love and a Child's Love
“A father cannot forget how 17iany childre?i he hath. He that leadeth us by the hand wherever we go hzoweth where and how we goP This is a very simple statement, but exceedingly full of consolation. We, being evil, do not forget our children; we know our own, and do not omit even the last little one from our tender memory; how much more shall our heavenly Father think upon all his own, and have them under his watchful eye! It is a pleasure to us to think of our children, for they are parts of ourselves. We could almost as soon cease to be as cease to remember them. Our Father above is all a Father can be and more: we are poor and needy, yet the Lord thinketh upon us.
It were well if the converse of all this were tme. We, alas! as children, too often forget our Father, and bear ourselves towards him otherwise than is meet. If we treated our God as good children do a loving father, our conduct towards him would lead us to a holy, happy life. We should long to be with him, and to be happy in his company; we should be jealous for the honour of his name, and feel pleased when we heard others extol him. He would be our rest, confidence, pattern, love, and delight. Miss Havergal, in her own sweet way, has worked out the ideal treatment of a father, and we can readily spiritualize it.
*’ How do you love your father?
Oh, in a thousand ways!
I think there’s no one like him
So worthy of my praise.
I tell him all my troubles,
And ask him what to do;
I know that he will give to me
His counsel kind and true.”
Nor does the relationship merely lead us to expect from him, it helps us to yield to him anything which he desires from us.
“Then every little service
Of hand, or pen, or voice.
Becomes, if he has asked it,
The service of my choice.
And from my own desires
‘Tis not so hard to part,
If once I know I follow so
His wiser will and heart.”
How it helps us in the hour of trial to find a father near in all the tenderness of his love! The same charming poetess tells us in a succeeding verse, —
*’ Once I was ill and suffering
Upon a foreign shore,
And longed to see my father
As I never longed before.
He came: his arm around me;
I leant upon his breast;
I did not long to feel more strong,
So sweet that childlike rest.”
Whatsoever a tender daughter would be to a kind, considerate father, that we should spiritually be unto our Lord. Let us muse over the model, and learn from it what our highest relationship deserves at our hand.
Lord, I would reflect thy love! Help me to remember thee, because thou dost without fail remember me.