Some days are hard and I feel lost . . . that’s when crying out to God is the only thing I know to do. Great story here…
In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears.
The blonde haired boy walks tall past each of the singly occupied tables with a sweet confidence that defies his small stature. Finally, he rests his juice box on the seventh table, climbs onto the chair, legs dangling, slides into a seated position, immediately scanning the room with keen blue eyes. A wall barrier separates the seating in this coffee shop from the ordering counter.
Although there is no adult in sight, the boy begins to call out, in a steady rhythm,
“Poppa, Poppa, Poppa”.
Poppa’s nowhere to be seen. He has not materialized this side of the coffee shop yet, taking care of the business unbeknownst to those aged below waist height. This does not hinder the boy from calling out to poppa; oblivious to the surrounding adults, students, fellow coffee shop goers, he continues the steady chant, “Poppa, Poppa, Poppa…”
Suddenly, I, sitting alone in the coffee shop, am struck by the beautiful irony.
Have I not been crying out to God, silently, while seeking sanctuary from a difficult morning in this local coffee shop? Have I not sat here weeping inwardly, longing for the comfort of my Father among the many strangers. I too, am crying out, without words, here now- “Poppa, Poppa, Poppa!”
I can’t see my Poppa, He’s out of sight. Sometimes, in my circumstances my emotions become enemies, rising up within, wreaking havoc with my peace of mind. I lose sight of my Poppa-I cry out, silently among many…sometimes raging in my solitude.
The fact is my Poppa, God, is not unaware of my inner crying. He knows exactly where I am physically, emotionally and spiritually, always. He is an omnipresent God.
Poppa was never really far from his child nor unaware of the situation. At the time he was able, he joined the boy, giving me a precious visual of my Heavenly Poppa’s faithful presence. It also was a powerful picture of God’s desire for me to pray without ceasing! What a gift God gave me as I sat in the coffee shop that morning. He met me right where I was, offered me a picture lesson and left me awed by His willingness to reach me, wherever I may wander affirming His sovereignty and grace.
That little boy never stopped calling his poppa’s name until he appeared.
Should we do any less?
Lord, I praise and thank you that you are a creative teacher, a faithful Shepherd and a loving Father. I ask you to keep me sensitive to your unseen presence. Though cannot see you now, I trust that you are taking care of “business” that I don’t comprehend and at the right time, you will reveal yourself. May I never cease crying out to you as long as I have breath or until your return in Glory! Amen.