Oh Father, I can’t imagine not talking to you every morning. Every morning as I spend time with you is what sets the course for my day. Where you go, I will go.
My daughter come, draw near to me as we walk. You are mine, the one I love.
Father, I’m sensing your deep love for me, and I’m so thankful. I wish I had the freedom to run after you more. I feel like I’m always being pulled back. In this place where I am with you, fill me to the brim. I love you.
My daughter, I am near. Be comforted, I won’t delay.
Reflection:
This week has been so busy planning my dad’s funeral. This Friday evening is the viewing, and it’s supposed to rain on Saturday, oh well. I do feel a bit overwhelmed and look forward to next week where things should go back to normal.
God gave me a dream where I had made a black-bean dish and I showed it to one of my pastors. The order of how I made the dish was different than I would normally have made it, but the order it was put together was not in my control. I hoped it would still work because I needed to cook something together with other ingredients that I would normally have cooked separate, like how I’d make the rice in a separate pot than the beans. They were all put together in a serving bowl when I showed my pastor, and now I needed to cook it all together.
Friday evening was my dads viewing and I was undone. The rain outside is my competition. I’ve had so much time to grieve but every time I see his photo or think about him, it’s starts again. I don’t think I’ll be able to share at the funeral but my sister will read my tribute.