In the movie 'Greece' a very serious Frenchy tells a very upset Sandy that "the only man a girl can really depend on his her daddy" This is, unfortunately not always the case.
I have an incredible father. He has always made us his priority and he has never let me down. Sometimes my friends dads would say they were going to come and pick them up and would never show. My dad was there. Every. Single. Time. If our view of our Heavenly Father is shaped by that of our earthly one, then I'm good.
I cannot, however, say the same for many of the children that I spend my days with. Although a majority of them are total orphans having lost their parents to disease and accidents, many of them have only one parent,their fathers having left when they were young. They have absentee fathers, and fathers who are drunkards and torture and abuse their children. I met one of them the other day. We had traveled to the country to a small town called Machakos in order to secure some forms for one of our kids. Zipporah Mumbi (in picture) is a beautiful, smart, outgoing young woman. She is always ready to help and looks out for the younger children at the home. That anyone would not want to know this precious girl is something that I cannot fathom. And yet, this man, her father, does not know her.
When Mumbi was very young her always drunk and very abusive father beat her mother to death. She and her brother were able to escape to Nairobi where by luck and God's grace they found their grandmother who was able to find a place for them at Cheryl's. It has been many years since she has seen him and him being there that day was a very unwelcome surprise to her. His greeting was a question. Not, "hello Mumbi" but more like, "are you Mumbi?" And then he wanted to shake my hand. My feelings at that moment are something that I'm not sure I can explain. Knowing what I know about him, it was difficult to look him in the eye and I had to make a conscious effort to not wipe my hand on my skirt after he released it. Their interaction was brief and limited and as he said good-bye and we left him, an unexpected feeling stirred in my heart. Pity, and wonder. I actually felt sorry for him. I felt sorry for all the bad choices that he had made in his life that meant he didn't know this incredible girl. And I wondered about him. I wondered what he had been thinking the whole time. How he felt when he said good-bye to his youngest daughter. Wondered if he was sorry, if he wished that he knew her, and had been a father that she could count on. Even now, as I write about it I am on the verge of tears and I still wonder. And yet a part of me is very angry.
These children deserve so much better. They deserve to have a father like mine, one who is kind and loving and generous. And if our view of our earthly fathers shape that of our Heavenly One, what does that mean for them?
If you are reading this, (which obviously you are, duh) I hope it means that you have been following a little bit of what I have been doing here for the last several months, and maybe your heart has been touched just a little by the life that is here. If thats the case, will you please do me a favor? Will you commit to praying for these little ones? They need fathers in their lives. A father that will never leave them or forsake them, one that they can run to for shelter in a storm. A father that knows them well and will call their names confidently.
Because it actually is true. The only man a girl can really depend on,is her Daddy.
