One morning I was alone in my room confessing (yet again) the sin I had walked into. I was really struggling and beaten down by the accuser hurling my sin in my face, telling me the familiar lie that God could not, did not love me. I cried out to God for forgiveness and begged Him to in some way show me He loved me that day. I needed visible, concrete assurance of His love. I got up from praying and, with the activities of being a mother of four, I soon forgot my request and went about my day.
We were living in Lancaster, PA at the time, roughly a five-hour drive from my parents in New Castle, PA. In the afternoon I was having a conversation with my oldest son when I was surprised by the front door opening. When I turned to see who was entering the house, I was surprised to see it was my dad. Usually there would be phone calls and coordination before a visit. Not this time.
When I asked why he decided to visit, his reply was touching. He said, “I just woke up and was overwhelmed by the feeling that I needed to see you, so I jumped in the car.” I enjoyed the day visiting with my dad. It wasn’t until later at night when things were quiet that God spoke to me and reminded me of the request I had made earlier. I hadn’t made the connection: I prayed and did not watch for His reply. I was overwhelmed by His love and answer to my cry. He did indeed love me—He sent my earthly daddy to comfort me. I thank God for His lavish display of love prompting my father to visit and the gentle reminder of His love for me. When my dad hugged me that day, it was my heavenly Father’s arms that also held me.