Father

It's a strong word, father, it congers up all kinds of feelings, about your own father and about being a father. Sometimes they are good feelings sometimes not so good. I've just been tidying up after my three daughters, who have been throwing dried sweet corn all over the floor. One of the youngest, 3 years old, is not happy that I have stopped her from doing what she thought was a most enjoyable activity. She is at this moment still screaming the place down in disgust.

It made me think about how God must feel when I ask Him to clear the messes that I have made. I am sure that He feels none of the aggravation that I do, (oh to be perfect). So many times I take God for granted. Granted that He will always love me, always do the best for me, always direct me to clear up after the mess I've made or do it for me when it is beyond my capability. I don't always like what God says to me, as just like my daughter I am quite happy in the mess that I have made.
God however, I am fully aware, is my Father and is only trying to teach me the the right way to act. Hopefully, as I grow I will continue learning to listen and obey my Father, Who I Love.