Father,
It’s just you and me here today father, in this skyscraper, in this half-light half-dark corner office. It’s just you and me: no distraction, no noise. The door is closed, and I am here with just my laptop, typing my way to you. I hear the ticking sound of the heater, the footsteps outside the door, the fan in my laptop running, and my heart is empty yet heavy. I close my eye imagining you are sitting right across from this office table, this cold, rigid, non-creative office table, across from me: a loving father who has been waiting for his daughter to talk to him for so long. Here I am father.
Here I am sitting across from you. I’m tired, confused and heavy-laden. It shouldn’t be, a man, no man, should have this much effect on me. Yet he does, why father? Why did you create a heart if the heart is always tainted and deceitful? Why is my heart this way father? Why doesn’t it give you the center and highest place? Why is it putting a man of fresh and bone, made of out dust, on the highest pedestal? Why? I wish I could freely proclaim to everyone that I have you and that you, the God of the universe is with me, therefore I am not afraid nor worried nor confused. Yet, I am all of these things and more. Father, help me untie the knot in my gut, unwrap the fist in my heart, undo the messy bun I tied up in my head. Help me see him for who he is: your son, your created child. Help me see me for who I am: your failing and small daughter. I’m not you; I’m not God, and I’m not in control. Yet, deep down I believe with the worst confident that I am, or that I can be. Father, what a foolish child I am. Help me to un-fool myself? How? Father how?
You gave your word that you have a plan for me, to not harm me but to prosper me, to give me hope and a future. What’s the hope I’m looking for father, remind me. What’s the future I’m planned to have, please paint that in my heart. Who am I? Remind me. I am your child; I am strong because you are strong. I am weak because you are strong. I am in control because you are in control; I am confused and totally lost because you are in control. I am no one without you. No one. So is he. Who is he with or without you father? Isn’t that a question I deserve to have an answer?
Do I deserve it? I probably not, I don’t deserve for you to sit here and listen to me ramble, yet you do. You are still here listening to me patiently. So hear me father, I need you to show me in solid way, I don’t know how, but the way you and only you know that can make me believe that he is with you. Only you know how to change my heart. Only you know how to convince me. You have done this many times, so I trust that you will do it again. Please, pretty please father? Would you? I know this request is selfish and not all wise or graceful or hopeful or trustful. But I need it father. How do I believe and trust a man with a sinful past and give my future away to him if i don’t know you have him tightly in your hands. Only you have my future. Please show me if he is a part of your plan. Give me a heart of wisdom, of grace, not judgment because father, I have plenty of that, judgment I mean. It’s funny how you never taught me to judge, and yet, I gain it naturally and quickly. Yet grace, something you teach me and reminds me times and tines, again and I just can’t get it in my heart. Father, sanctification is a long and windy path, please sanctify me, sanctify him, sanctify this world we live in.
I love you father, I trust you father, enough for me for now, but obviously not enough at all by your standard. But this mustard seed trust, you promise that you would grow it, then keep your promise father, to me, to him. Grow our hearts; grow your mustard seed toward you. I ask this is Jesus’ glorious and merciful name.
Your daughter,
Quarter Life Crisis 