A Father Who Sees

 

This afternoon’s errands took me to Walmart on a cool, rainy day. As I wandered into the toy aisle, I noticed the joy and tenderness shared between fathers and their children. I watched fathers standing beside their little ones, letting small hands guide them from toy to toy. There was sweetness in the way the children called out to their fathers, certain they would be heard.

One moment touched my heart. A little boy pointed at a bright yellow school bus and said look dad, look with all the urgency and trust a child can hold. His father didn’t rush him or brush him aside. He bent down, looked exactly where his son pointed, and gave him his full attention. When I echoed the boy’s excitement, the father smiled and said, he wants me to look at everything. There was warmth in his voice, not frustration. It was such a simple exchange, yet it held the whole shape of love: a child longing to be seen, and a father choosing to see.

As I walked away, I found myself thinking about my Heavenly Father. I thought about how often I whisper, look at that sky or look at the mountains rising in the distance. And I wondered if He feels the same quiet joy when I draw His attention to something beautiful. I imagine Him turning His gaze toward whatever I’m noticing and saying, I see it, and I see you.

But beauty isn’t the only thing I bring to Him. There are those moments that are not lovely at all. The storms. The misunderstandings. The days when your heart feels heavy or your voice feels small. When I call out His name in those moments, I believe He bends toward me just as tenderly. He gives me His undivided attention whether I am pointing to something lovely or something painful. He listens to whatever I want to share, without hesitation and without hurry.

He is a Father who never tires of my voice, who never grows weary of looking when I say look, who delights in the simple fact that I want to share something with Him. And I am grateful for that kind of love, grateful for fathers on earth who show us glimpses of it, and grateful for a Heavenly Father who sees me in joy and in sorrow, in clarity and in confusion, and who never grows weary of hearing my voice when I call out His name.