Abba, Father

I tend to be a bit of a fighter.  Stubborn and willful, I struggle until there simply is no fight in me left.  I'm exhausted and at my wits end.  I have a strong desire to do things my way, because I'm pretty sure I am strong enough. 

That is what I love about my Abba, Father, because He lets me.  He lets me fight, He lets me be stubborn and willful.  He lets me struggle till there is no fight left and I am out of options.  He lets me flex my muscles and He lets me try things my own way.  He never yells at me.  He never says, "If I have said it once I have said it a million times."  He never tells me, when I lay worn on the ground, "I told you so."  He never makes me mind.  He never makes me obey.  He quietly waits.  Never far away.  And He watches. 
             While I throw my fit. 
And when I am done and I look up to Him with a tear streaked face, He opens His arms.  Tenderly smiles.  Lifts me up.  Embraces me and says the words I so desperately want to hear:
                     "I love you, daughter.

 Come to me, and I will give you rest.  My burden is easy and my yoke is light."

    He offers me no condemnation

 only, 

 perfect, perfect love.

"But me he caught-reached all the way from sky to sea;  he pulled me out of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos, the void in which I was drowning.  They hit me when I was down, but God stuck by me.  He stood me up on a wide-open field;  I stood there saved-
                 Surprised to be loved!
                  2 Samuel 22:17-20 MSG