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Waiting for My Father

12/30/2008, 標竿刊物Meena Lin

I was 5 to 6 years old, living in South Korea. I remember that my family lived in an apartment building. My father worked hard to support our family, so we wouldn’t see him during the day until he came home in the evening.

I remember once when I was playing in the streets with some other kids in the neighborhood, that I saw this man coming up the stairs. It was my dad and it was early in the afternoon! I was so happy to see him that I ran to him. He told me to get my younger sister, Mona, who was still inside with my mom. I ran into the courtyard screaming for Mona and yelling to my mom “Daddy was here!” Our place was on the second floor and my mom looked over and saw my father, who at this time was walking right behind me. He went up the stairs to get Mona, who at this time was 2-3 years of age. 

He looked down at me with Mona in his arms and said, “Come on, I will buy you two something to eat.” WOO HOO! We were so happy that I was skipping in the streets and telling the other kids that my daddy was going to buy me a treat. I could tell the other kids were jealous and envious and I was so proud that MY daddy was home and going to get me something special. The three of us made it back down the stairs to the various shops that lined the streets with candies, snacks, and food to eat. My father told me that I could pick anything that I wanted. I ran into the store that had the snack that I loved the most. The owner was an older man and he made this candy out of sugar and baking soda. He would make various shapes and if you can take this shape out without breaking the candy, you can have another one free...He gives you a little sewing needle to prick at the delicate candy. I tried really hard, but failed. I was sad that I couldn’t get another one for free, but my father encouraged me to try again. My father, Mona and I were walking hand in hand along with the other snacks he bought. I remember feeling so happy and content. It was a very special day, not because of the treats; but that my dad was at home early and I got to spend this time with him.

Why did I share this story? Having three children now and seeing how their faces light up when Adam would come home after he was away on a business trip, I know how excited they were. He would come home and often times, he would tell me to open the door, but not to let them know that he was coming. He would walk through the doors and the kids would all scream and run to him. Then the hurricane begins! They show him things they have done, but most importantly is to see what daddy brought for them from Asia. They would sit there with this look of excitement and anticipation. They were all giddy, giggly and most importantly looking at their father, with this look to make sure that he was really there sitting right in front of them. When the gifts start to come out of the luggage bags, they are screaming and laughing. “Can we open this now?” is followed by “Thank you, Daddy!” with many kisses and hugs. The boys would get Japanese toys to add to their collection and Jessica, who was a little baby, would get little soft toys and clothes. She took to the boys’ toys more than her own. They would end up giving her one of the older toys to satisfy her need. 

Adam was tired, jet-lagged, but he had the same look that only a father can have. It was the same look that my father had. He was happy to see his children happy and he was glad that he got them something that they wanted. 

This is the way Jesus is to me...I know that He loves me and wants to give me everything that He could. He knows how excited I am for the day that He will come for me. I often feel His love for me and He reminds me of how special I am through people, songs and His words. I only hope that I can make him smile and make Him feel the way that my father and Adam felt when they look upon their children. 

I am waiting for my Father, just like many of you. I know my day will come where I will see His shining face and for Him to welcome me in His arms. I hope by His immeasurable grace and love for me that He will say to me “Well done, my good and faithful child. Welcome home.” 

I remember the day after my father came home early exactly what I was doing. I was playing on the streets again, but would quickly turn my head every time I heard footsteps coming up those stairs, wondering if my father would be home early again. That is me now again, waiting and wondering when my Father would come and take me home. I am excited, aren’t you?



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