Liza was raised by her father in a small rural farmhouse. Her childhood memories of him were pleasant and she knew that her daddy cherished his daughter.

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As she grew, Liza began to explore the world independently of her father. There were no real good-byes, as she simply spent less and less time with him, and eventually there was much distance and minimal contact between them. Other desires simply occupied Liza’s time and heart. Her father would often call or stop by, just to talk, but Liza was too busy to set aside time for him. Infrequently, she would call and ask him for his help or for his approval on her plans, but the conversations were brief and one-sided, and their relationship continued to become more distant and superficial. She eventually stopped reading his letters and answering his calls, always promising herself that one day she would make up for all the lost time.

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When she thought of her dad, Liza hoped that he would know how productive and good she was and be proud of her but she was too busy to go to him and find out what he thought. When she saw her brothers and sisters and heard them speak of their closeness with their father, she felt like an outsider, so she would work harder, and try to do better to compensate for her feelings of inadequacy. This would always improve how she felt for a time, especially when she saw that she could accomplish more than her siblings. An overwhelming fatigue would then settle on her, however, and she would see her relationship with her father as another “have to” in her life, a burden, and she even sometimes wished that he wasn’t a part of her life at all. She was torn. She recognized her desire to know him, and be known by him, yet she also felt poorly for neglecting him for so long.

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Liza’s siblings would tell her of her father’s spoken love for her. They told her of the joy with which he spoke of her and how he longed for their reunion. But with so many people, desires and things occupying her time and energy, Liza was sure that she could never begin again, let alone maintain, a close relationship with him.

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Over time, Liza became more frustrated… and lonely. She began to have moments of desperation when she would question everything, including whether she may had “missed the mark”. She’d find herself looking with envy at her brothers and sisters who spoke with such gratitude about their lives and about their father. They seemed to see themselves primarily as their father’s kids and, though they were her siblings, they were sure different. Liza began to see that her identity and value were wrapped up in her pursuit of goodness and contentment as a mother, wife, worker, and friend. When she saw herself as successful in these various roles, she would feel better, but her standards and feelings kept changing and she’d again feel that she fell short. Could it possibly be that her effort and energy had been misplaced? She sure didn’t feel the satisfaction she thought she would from fulfilling her desires and from what she had accomplished. What was the purpose of her life? Wasn’t it to be a good person and to be happy and fulfilled? Wasn’t this what everyone pursued? She had worked so hard at living well but it had brought her to this empty and lonely place. Could she call her whole journey a failure? If she did, it would be like death to who she was!

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Could it be that what she most longed for was a close relationship with her father? Could it be so simple? Would that be sufficient? Did her siblings have something worth considering? Could Liza abandon who she was for the sake of knowing him? Did she have to? The questions kept coming, from somewhere, leaving her feeling vulnerable and confused. She hated these feelings and her uncertainty. Could her father even fill this emptiness in her? She didn’t know. But she was seeing with more clarity that her current pursuits were leaving her tired and empty.

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One sleepless night, Liza pulled out a stack of unopened letters from her father. They had been received over years, and she always intended to read them, but she never seemed to have the time or energy. As she began to read, she was struck by her father’s clear, heart-felt affection toward her. Could it still be true?  Maybe when she was younger, but not now. Surely his affection toward her had changed after all of her years of indifference. Even if she did go to him now, certainly he would be angry.  Would he still care?   As she continued to read, she noted his frequent invitations to call or stop over. She saw his promises to help her any time, in any way. He offered his presence in any circumstance. He offered his tools, his abilities, his ear, his protection, his counsel, and his comfort, all expressed with a gentle love that was now foreign to her and yet so attractive. It sounded like he meant it and that it didn’t matter how or when she came to him… that he simply cared for her, as she was, and that he neither expected, nor even desired, anything in return.

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Over time, Liza began to believe that it may be true, this love for her, even now, from a father that perhaps never stopped loving his daughter. As she dared to believe, through her silent tears, she felt something she hadn’t felt for a long time… hope. Hope seemed just a word until this moment. She sensed light and warmth that was difficult to describe. Then, she heard a sound. A faint tapping on her door.  She looked through the window and saw his face, searching… for her? How long had he been there? As she slowly opened the door, she couldn’t face him, as she felt ashamed after all of her neglect and indifference. He gently touched her and lifted her head and she looked into his eyes. He seemed to sense her struggles and confusion, and yet … his eyes and embrace were so warm, so welcoming.  She accepted his heart for her!  

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Liza decided that her father’s certain love and joy over her would be her new treasure. Nothing could compare! When he said her name, nothing else mattered, and she cared no more about her other desires, how long it had been, how good she was, or how poorly she had behaved toward him. She cared only that her father loved her dearly. Was it really true? At this moment, in his presence, she had no doubt. Sensing his unconditional love for her was truly beautiful. All things seemed new, and she sensed that nothing would ever be the same. She led her father into her home and began to share about her journey. She told him everything, her joys, her sorrows, her confusion. She shared her heartaches, and her failures, as well as her desire to know him again, and be known. He held her, for a long time. She knew she had come home. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. She was again his! She determined that she would now always be his. There was no one she would rather be, than her father’s daughter, living in his continual presence, knowing his unconditional, all-forgiving, tender affection.

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Over the years, Liza’s memory of that night, and the profound grace in her father’s love for her, remained clear. She continued to meet with her father often, including him in all of her activities, and she remained ever grateful for his devotion to her and it colored every facet of her life, every interaction. At times, however, her devotion toward him waned, especially when she would look inward or prioritize her desires, goodness or achievements, rather than his affection for her. When her heart began to leave her father, the light and warmth that she knew in his presence would fade, replaced by an insecurity and loneliness that would soon drive her back to him, and she would apologize for her wandering devotion. Her only response from him every time was a warm and welcoming embrace.  She learned that it was in her best interest to stay close with him, and he proved this to her over and over, in counsel, in protection, and in companionship. She knew that, in fact, this was life – to know and, to be known, by her father. Ultimately, she saw that her life was not about fulfilling all of her desires, or growing in character, goodness, or happiness. Liza had tried them all, and she had now abandoned them for a treasure of more value than life itself. And He … was enough.

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Perhaps you find yourself in a place similar to Liza.  I have been there…  Her story is our story and her hope is our hope.  Our Father and Liza’s Father are one, and knowing Him and choosing to live in… gratitude… and in awareness of His continual presence and affection for us… remains this life’s greatest treasure.

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