Waiting

Waiting

By Nina B.

My mother and father were not married, however, my father did give me his name and took responsibility for my welfare. Not only providing for me financially; there was an agreement between he and my mother that he would come every other Sunday and pick me up for a visit - usually just he and I, so that I would know him as my father and I would be his “Cookie”, (his pet name for me).

The earliest times that I remember was when I was about two or three and we’d walk to the park near where I lived and he pushed me on the swings, or encourage me to climb the monkey bars, or go down the slide or simply walk across the benches… And he’d take pictures of me - lots of pictures. These were indeed sweet times.

As I grew older our time together grew longer and we would venture to his neighborhood, and I remember feeling odd because the kids in his neighborhood, over by Garfield Park Conservatory, would stare at me. I’d complain and dad would calm my fears and simply explain - “They just don’t know you Cookie”.... We’d go to the park and have a “photo shoot”. He really did take a ton of pictures of me. He wanted to capture our times together…. I think he knew something I didn’t - that he wasn’t going to live to see me grow up.

God knows I miss those times of feeling that I was “The Princess”. I was indeed the apple of my father’s eye.

After our times in the park, with pose after pose by the geraniums, (they made my hands smell), we’d go to Woolworth and get ice cream. I always ate mine too slow and dad would have to clean me up with his handkerchief. A handkerchief was something that men used to have tucked away in their breast pocket of their suit jacket, that they usually wore when stepping out. Sometimes we would go back to his place with a pint or two ice cream from Walgreen's and my favorite soda at the time “orange or grape” and he’d make floats to go along with our pepper steaks and biscuits and peas. I think our meals were t.v. dinners because I remember the tin serving tray. T.V. meals or homemade, I still remember the taste - I loved it.

And I could do no wrong.

My father never raised his voice to me. Of course, I was an obedient child because after all, I was my mother’s child as well. One never did anything wrong. Looking cross-eyed got you “the look”. However, I do remember getting lost in a department store once. I didn’t even know I was lost. Dad didn’t notice that I let go of his hand and had walked away. I remembered my older sister was with me on this visit. I went to look at a Victorian style doll that was taller than the usual Barbie dolls, (they were still a novelty when I was a kid). The Victorian doll had a cloth like face that was painted. She had those over-sized eyes and her hair was done up in black ringlet curls. She wore a classic Victorian style, navy blue velvet dress with white lace accents. I was mesmerized as she turned under a glass cylinder with under lighting.  Dad didn’t know where I was. I don’t know how long I was simply standing, looking at the doll, but when he saw me and took up my hand again - it was as if I had been gone for days, (I’m sure it was no longer than five minutes, if that). But I could sense the panic in his grasp and in his eyes. The pain of that momentary separation scared the …. out of him. Me too - when I saw his eyes. I hadn’t meant to cause that pain. I was sorry - He knew I was. He didn’t scold me. He didn’t say anything. All was well with my hand back in his.

I remember waiting one Sunday after church for him to come. Looking down from our third floor window searching the street below for his humongous old Black car as each car passed. Mom said that it wasn’t the Sunday for our visit, but I waited anyway… and waited… One time I thought I saw him in a car. It was a big fancy convertible car… I ran after him calling, but it wasn’t him…

Even though I waited - in vain - for a long time, I still loved my father. He was still my dad… He still loved me… while we were apart… And he would come again, for me, another Sunday.

So, with the recent happenings of concentrated destruction and world powers gone totally out of control… Not to mention people seemingly not being in their right mind at all...  

Likewise, with the impending celestial event that has never happened before, but building, for some good folk - great expectation that our Heavenly Father - God, is returning for His children - soon - like in a couple of weeks.

Let us not loose hope...

…if He doesn’t come, when folks are expecting Him too - He's got the date already set.

He is still God. 

He is still our loving Father and will one day grab up our hands and we will look into His eyes and know that He loves us so much and that He wants us Home with Him.

Even though, it's not yet come… Have no fear...

And… Make a difference for those the Lord places within your circle.

Who do you see everyday? Have you shared your testimony? Do they know you’re a believer? Have you offered to ever pray for them? Have you offered to welcome them into the family? Have you offered hope? Do they know how to receive God's forgiveness? 

Tell them people... That's why they're in your circle of influence... Father - God planned it that way. 

Do not delay! Another Sunday is coming...

Always… Soli Deo Gloria

This is a video done by Pastor Robert Breaker of thecloudchurch.org., (who shares a close resemblance to Pastor Thomas Johnson who is a few pounds lighter - okay, a lot of pounds lighter), that I found particularly interesting and thought some of you may as well.