Blog Posts - The Father's Love

In my previous post in this series I shared a story about a powerful experience I had of the Father's love. I had heard my Father's voice speaking words of love and affirmation over me, and I felt greatly loved and affirmed afterwards. But only for a few days, and then I was my old insecure self again. Why? Why were the spiritual highs I experienced by encountering the living God always followed by desolate lows? Why couldn't I cement in my heart once and for all that my Father loves me? He gave the life of His only Son in exchange for me — isn't that enough? But that happened almost two thousand years ago. What about His love for me today ? In fact God has given me many proofs of His love for me. Six years after I met God, I was walking down a street somewhere. I was full of passion for following Jesus, but I was also a young man approaching thirty who was lonely and had no career in sight. I remember praying this prayer based on Ephesians 3:18: Father, I know by now I should filled to the height and depth and breadth and length with your love, but to be honest, all I really want at this point in my life is a wife, a car and a career. Very spiritual, wasn't I? And yet around a year later I was married, had a job as a high-school teacher, and had been given a free car. God loves when we are honest and He doesn't tolerate bullshit (a.k.a. hypocrisy, but I like the contemporary word better). And when that happened, I started to "get it" that God really did love me — in the here and now, and not just theologically. But despite such spiritual experiences and answers to prayer, I still struggled with insecurity and self-doubt for many years, until one day when Ingrid and I were on vacation in London, England. We had run out of cash (British pounds) and had used up our traveller's cheques. My debit card wouldn't work in the UK because of some issue. All we had were our credit cards, but we needed cash since not every establishment accepted credit cards. So I started to enter panic mode. We went to a bank nearby, but they said they couldn't help us. Finally after running around for some time, we found a bank that with the help of our passports and phone calls was willing to advance us some cash on our credit cards. "I am never going to let this happen to us again, " I shouted as we left the bank. I was in full-on panic mode by this time, and was determined to wear several money belts full of cash if we ever travelled outside Canada again. And then at that moment I remembered something the Lord had spoken to me after we had been told we were done with the church-planting internship program we had been taking at a Vineyard church on the West Coast. I had felt like a failure because I hadn't demonstrated that I could multiply the homegroup we had started, and afterwards as I was reading through Isaiah part of a verse spoke to me: Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you... (Isa 43:4 NIV) When I read this I thought: that's the first time that God has said "I love you" to me. I felt somewhat encouraged and filed the words away in my journal, but deep down they didn't make much difference in how I felt about myself. But in London when those words came back to me, I suddenly understood why God had reminded me of them. Because if I am precious to Him, I need not have any fear about anything. And if I am honored in his sight, then I shouldn't consider myself a failure in His sight. Precious — no fear. Honored — no failure. And, of course, loved. So I used this verse to wrestle down the fear and panic that had been overwhelming me, and we continued with our vacation and enjoyed our remaining time in the UK. And what had I learned? That I must exercise faith when God speaks to me or reveals Himself to me. I must believe what He says to me, and continue to believe even in the face of circumstances. The following story in Mathew 14:22-31 is important in this regard: Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." "Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." "Come," he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" While the heading for this passage in most Bibles is "Jesus walks on water" or something similar, a much better heading would be "Peter tries to walk on water." Because the lesson is really about learn how we, as followers of Jesus like Peter was, must learn how to exercise — and to continue to exercise — faith in every circumstance. It's the difference between walking on water or sinking into the depths of self-doubt and despair. I've had many powerful experiences of God over the years: I've heard His voice, seen Him on His throne, and had other foretastes of the powers of the age to come (Hebrews 6:5). But until I began applying myself to believe what He says to me, especially concerning His love for me in Christ, the impact of all these many experiences didn't last. And this — resolving to believe God — is what has finally enabled me to cement in my heart my Father's affirming love towards me, and to erase the roots of insecurity and self-doubt from my heart. Not that I'm already perfect — but I'm getting there. May you get there too, and soon! —Mitch

I shared previously how as a young man I had ended up on the floor after being ministered to at a Vineyard conference. That occasion however left me feeling desolate as I ended up crying out "Father, I want to feel your love!" over and over again. Instead of being filled by the Spirit from this experience, I felt nothing but emptiness afterwards. But shortly after this I had a different "floor time" experience. Back then there was no Vineyard church in our city, so Ingrid and I were attending what we thought at the time was the next best thing: a growing Charismatic church located in the downtown area. It wasn't until long after we had left the church that we learned it had previously belonged to the Shepherding Movement. During one of the Sunday services, the pastor gave out what he felt was a "word from the Lord" that some of those present had told God they had "drawn lines in the sand" and would "not cross them again." He said however that this was wrong and that those who had drawn such lines should come forward and repent. Frustrated and discouraged from having tried to engage in various ministry activities only to be criticized and rebuffed by leadership, I felt that the pastor's "word" must apply to me. So I went forward and got down on my knees to repent. I began to pray, telling God how sorry I was that I had drawn those lines in the sand. Then I felt someone's hand on my back, and as the hand started trembling I began to weep. "I'm sorry, Father," I said, repeating this again and again as my eyes began to fill with tears. Then suddenly the Lord spoke to me: You've never drawn any lines. "Whaah" I cried, "whaah, whaaah" as tears rolled down my face. This went on a while and then God spoke to me again: You've always obeyed me. "Whaaaah! Whaaaaahhh!" I cried loudly as the hand on my back shook strongly. Then He spoke to me one more time: You're a man after my own heart. "WHAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" Lying on the floor by this time, I proceeded to sob my heart out, totally oblivious to everything and everyone around me. Then after some time had elapsed and my tears had dried up, I opened my eyes and turned around to find out who had been praying for me. "What happened, Mitch?" It was my brother-in-law who had laid his hand on me. "Mitch?" he repeated, "What was happening there with you?" We both stood up. I looked at him and wanted to say, "My name isn't Mitch, it's CHRISTIAN!!" But I just smiled instead and thanked him and said I couldn't share right now, maybe later. Because I didn't want to lose the wonderful feeling I was experiencing at that moment: the feeling of being loved and affirmed by my heavenly Father. The experience was so precious to me that I thought if I should share it I might lose the potency and power of it. This feeling only lasted several days however and then it dissipated. And by the end of the week I was struggling with insecurity and depression again over not being able to find my place in the church and not being recognized by the leadership for the gifts I felt God had given me. Like my daydream in the house church that I previously used to attend, this new experience of God's love was powerful, but once again it didn't last. Why not? Probably for several reasons which at the time I just couldn't fathom. But the question always remained: How could I cement in my heart the fact that my Father really loves me? Was there something I needed to do? Or was I doomed to endure a series of spiritual highs followed by desolate lows? More to come soon. --Mitch

---By Ingrid Tulloch---  When I was a young woman who had come of age, I wanted more than anything else to be on my own, to make my own decisions for my life and not be under the control of my parents. So I started praying about my situation. Not long afterwards the door opened for me to attend a Navigators conference in Colorado Springs. While I was there I attended a Bible study on Second Timothy led by one of the Navigators leaders, and during the study I was struck by this verse: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." (2 Tim 1:7) Here ended all confusion for me. After receiving some counselling from the leader, I made the decision that when I returned I would tell my parents right away that I was going to move out, live on my own and take steps to further my education which was to become a teacher in Early Childhood Development. When I got home, I told my parents my plans. They were puzzled, but they didn't try to stop me. My Heavenly Father had given me courage and confidence through that verse, and I often returned to it whenever I faced a difficult situation in my life. May the Lord lead and guide you in your own life! —Ingrid

In the early 80s we attended a Vineyard conference where one of John Wimber's associates was speaking. By that time Ingrid and I had listened to numerous teaching tapes by Wimber and were leading a home fellowship where we all practiced learning to heal the sick. I was excited about attending the conference, and had put together a laundry list of spiritual gifts I wanted to receive from the Lord so I could be more effective in power ministry to help build His church. So when the speaker finished teaching and invited people to come forward, I hurried to the front and waited for someone to minister to me. The speaker came and stood in front of me. (Yay, the Big Guy, just what I was hoping!) He asked me what I wanted him to pray for. I told him I wanted the gift of prophecy and the gift of tongues, and more anointing for healing, and so on and so forth. He looked at me, and then he placed his hands on me and said, "Say this prayer out loud: Father, I want to feel your love." So I prayed as directed. Next thing I knew I was on the floor bawling my eyes out. I sobbed and sobbed, silently crying "Father! I want to feel your love!" over and over again. I felt so empty. Meanwhile, the speaker had left me there and gone on to pray for someone else. Eventually I got up, dried my eyes, and went back to my seat. I don't remember the rest of the conference; I just remember feeling empty afterwards, and confused. Was this effective ministry on the speaker's part? Did he minister to me the way the Lord wanted him to? I don't know; Paul says we prophesy in part (1 Cor 13:9) and James says we make many mistakes (Jas 3:2) as we teach and minister to others. What I do know is that my hunger for knowing God — for experiencing his presence and power — continued to grow during the years that followed. But it seemed like a long time before that hunger was satisfied. But You have satisfied it, Father, thank you. May our Heavenly Father satisfy your hunger for Him too in the coming days, months and years. —Mitch

I was sitting in the living room at Mandy's place where the house church I belonged to was meeting. One of the elders was speaking on some topic. I was bored, so my mind began to wander and I had the following daydream: I needed to talk with my father about something, so I went to the castle where my father was the king. I walked across the drawbridge under the portcullis hanging above the gate and into the courtyard. Two guards in armor were standing by the castle entrance, and they ignored me as I reached to open the door and enter the castle. I walked down the hallway where other guards were silently standing at attention on either side of the hall. I approached the door to the king's chamber and looked up at the guards standing silently on either side of the doorway. I slowly opened the door and looked into the room. The king was hunched over his table together with his counsellors. They were discussing important matters while examining some papers on the table. Realizing the king was too busy that I should interrupt him for such an unimportant matter as mine was, I turned around and left the room, quietly closing the door behind me. With my head hanging and feeling sad, I walked slowly back down the passageway and out through the castle door. I walked across the courtyard, under the portcullis, and onto the drawbridge. But just as I was about to step off the drawbridge, I remembered something: Wait a minute — he's my FATHER!!! I quickly turned around and ran back through the gate into the courtyard. The guards saluted me as I approached and opened the castle door for me. I ran down the hallway and the guards on either side briskly saluted as I ran past. And when I reached the door to the king's chamber, the guards standing there opened it and waved me in to enter. I ran into the room where my father the king was busy conferring with his counsellors, and I shouted "Dad! Dad!!" The king immediately straightened up and looked straight at me. Then he brusquely waved away his counsellors and told them to leave the room. Pushing his papers aside, he lifted me onto his table and putting his arm around me, said, "Son, what's wrong?" I can't help wanting to cry whenever I remember this daydream. I'm crying right now in fact, even though this happened many years ago when I was a young man who had only been a Christian a few years. It was my first powerful experience of the fatherhood of God, and the effect it had on the others in our house church — I think someone had asked me what I thought about the topic being discussed, and when I didn't respond they realized my attention had been elsewhere — but when I told the group what I had been just been daydreaming, the effect on them was electric: "Whoooaaahhh!" most of them said, leaning back on their sofas in amazement. That felt nice. At the end of our house church service, one of the elders asked if I would like to bring the message the following Sunday. I said yes, and I spent that whole week trying to think up more parables (made-up stories that taught a lesson) I could share with the group. Well, the following Sunday finally arrived, and the church members looked on with smiling expectation as I began sharing my parables... They were hugely disappointed. My thought-up parables were contrived and lame, and I felt more and more embarrassed as I shared them under the increasing frowns of the listeners. Needless to say, no one thanked me at the end of my sermon. That didn't feel nice. Some thoughts and analysis Clearly my experience had been more than just a daydream: it was a revelation of the Father's love. One might expect that such a revelation would have had a deep and lasting effect on my understanding of the Fatherhood of God and my relationship with Him. It didn't. I was still the same insecure young man afterwards: passive, unassertive, lacking in confidence, full of self-doubt and plagued with anxiety. My revelation didn't "take" in my innermost being and had zero impact on my spiritual growth as a young Christian. Why? Perhaps it was because I already understood that God was my Father and that He loved me, for I knew I had eternal life because of what Jesus had done for me on the cross. So my daydream didn't really tell me anything that I didn't already know. But I think the real reason my daydream had so little impact on me was because of my relationship with my earthly father. I loved my dad, and I know he loved me too; he proved that in so many ways when I was growing up. But my dad had his own struggles with insecurity that affected his behavior towards me and which left me feeling uncertain about his love for me. For example, dad could be demonstrative in showing affection by giving me hugs and expressing admiration for my achievements. But he could also be sharp and cutting with his words, calling me a jerk when I did something stupid or withdrawing in coldness whenever I rejected his advice. Because of these mixed messages I received from him, I found it difficult to approach my father whenever I needed something, fearing he might reject my request. But whenever I did ask him for something, he almost always gave it to me. I think this confusion I experienced regarding my earthly father's feelings towards me probably carried over into my relationship with my new Father when I became a Christian. The first part of my daydream seems to confirm this, while the dream's ending shows my Heavenly Father's true feelings towards me. But just as my dad's demonstrations of affection could be negated by a single expression of his criticism, my assurance of God's love towards me was similarly precariously balanced at this point in my Christian life. After all, what if I don't live up to my Heavenly Father's expectations? Will He still love me? And yes, I was aware that Romans 8 says there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. But what if I sometimes still walked according to the flesh instead of according to the Spirit? Was I truly in Christ if I struggled so often with sin in my life? These kinds of arguments raged through my mind in the early years of my Christian life. Truth is, even though I had become a convinced Evangelical by that point, all the sound doctrine I had learned didn't really help me very much — and this despite having read all six volumes of Martin Lloyd-Jones's commentary on Romans and memorized much of the first eight chapters of Romans in the original Greek! In a future post I'll explore this question of why experiences of God's love don't always help help us grow spiritually. But for now, let me just conclude with one final, and I think very important, observation concerning my house church daydream/revelation. I believe that the most fundamental reason why this particular revelation had so little impact upon me personally is because it wasn't actually intended for me: it was intended for the others who attended that house church meeting. My daydream was a gift from the Holy Spirit, and such gifts are given for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:7) not to bring the person who delivers the gift high regard from others or boost their self-esteem. But none of us in our house church understood this as we were all die-hard Evangelicals: good, solid Christians, but limited in some ways by our cessationist theology. So when I shared my daydream with them, the elders reacted by thinking I must be a gifted teacher and invited me to bring the message next time. And since among Evangelicals being a gifted preacher is often viewed as the sina qua non of being a committed Christian, I readily assented to their invitation — and was then deeply hurt by their reaction on the following Sunday. Fortunately I now have a better understanding of what the Christian life is supposed to be like, some of which Ingrid and I have tried to describe in our free book Simple Kingdom: Discipleship . But I'm telling you, it's been a long, hard journey, and I'm looking forward to reaching the finish line. Because then there won't be any more questions —I'll see Him face to face. Take care, and be filled to overflowing with the Father's love. —Mitch

The affirmation of a loving father is important for the emotional development of a growing adolescent. The mother's role is to nurture the young child. The father's role is to prepare the adolescent for separation — for entry into the world as an independent person. One day when I was still a young man who had recently married and was starting his career, I went to visit my parents. After talking with my mother and devouring some of her recent baking, I went outside to greet my dad. He was sitting in the back yard with his two golf buddies, the Dawn Patrol, enjoying drinks together and talking about old times. Dad was on supplementary oxygen at the time; it was a couple of years before his death from pulmonary fibrosis. I loved my dad, and I know he loved me, but I also knew he wasn't very demonstrative, so I had no expectations as I sat down to join them for a few minutes. I decided however that instead of just being the passive son who mostly listened, I would try to actively join their "adult" conversation. And I did. I asked questions, made comments, and joked around for a while. Then when I got up to say goodbye and leave, I stretched out my arm to shake hands with each of Dad's friends, and last of all with him. Dad grasped my hand tightly and squeezed it hard, and looked into my eyes with a smile on his face. I understood immediately what he was silently trying to communicate to me: "I'm proud of you. You're a man now, and you joined us and behaved just like a man should. I'm so proud of you, my son." My heart thrilled as I walked to my car. My father had just affirmed my manhood, and for the next couple of days I was flying high. Even now I almost cry as I remember this experience. Many years later I had a similar experience with my Heavenly Father. The church family I belonged to had allowed idolatry and immorality to creep into their teaching and practice. God showed me that I should address this matter, so I wrote a book and sent it to all of their leaders and to individuals I knew in various congregations. The response I got surprised me. Those who were not in leadership said "Hey, this is good teaching!" Those in leadership however either sharply criticized me or ignored me. But I knew in my heart that I had been faithful, because I did what the Lord had told me to do. A few weeks later Ingrid and I were watching an action movie together in our den. We were movie buffs at that time and had built up quite a DVD collection which later on helped us weather the isolation of the COVID lockdown period. Anyways, about two-third of the way through the movie, something remarkable happened. Heaven opened, just a crack, up above my left shoulder and near the window in our loft. And a soft voice came from heaven, saying, "My son." This experience only lasted a second or two, then the voice of Tom Cruise or whoever it was entered my awareness again. This really happened — I kid you not. I immediately understood that my Heavenly Father was affirming me, telling me He was proud of me, of what I had done — being obedient to Him regardless of the cost. But my reaction to this experience surprised me. Unlike my earthly father's handshake many years ago, this time I felt no great emotional high afterwards. Instead, I just felt warm contentment, and silently said "Thanks Father, I love you too" in my heart. I guess I'm more mature today than I was back then. But while I may be a fully-grown man now, I'm still just His child. May you too know the affirming love of your Heavenly Father. —Mitch

The door opened and I was about to step off the bus when God spoke to me: "I have healed you." I paused in wonder for a moment, and then becoming aware that the bus driver was impatiently waiting, I stepped down and walked towards the high school where I was the Physics teacher. As I walked, I reflected on what God had said and realized that what He was telling me was that I was no longer an insecure adolescent like the students I was teaching. I was now an adult — I was then in my early 30s and had been married several years — and though I could still remember what it felt like to be a teenager, there was now a healthy distance between myself and my students. I felt that God was affirming my manhood by these words, and this made me feel happy inside. But then a few days later, and again while I was on the bus to work, God spoke to me once more: "I will heal your manhood." Argh, I don't understand, Lord! You told me I was healed, and now you promise that you're going to heal me?? I struggled for several weeks over these two seemingly contradictory divine utterances, but then slowly I began to understand what God was saying to me. He was indeed affirming me, but He was also saying that I still had some way to go before I reached mature manhood. It's now several decades after these early experiences, and I'm thankful that I'm now a lot closer to being fully mature. But I'm not quite there yet; I'm still learning and growing as my Heavenly Father continues to father me. My prayer for you today is what Paul prayed for the Ephesians: that with the Father's help you may reach "mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:13). Be blessed and filled with the Father's love for you. —Mitch