Last year as part of the effort to escape the oppression of COVID, our family went to the beach for an overnight. We had a lot of fun, got some sunburn, stayed in a hotel for the first time as a family, and ate some treats that we don’t normally have.
This was the first time in a few years that we had been to the beach. My son, 9 at the time, was now big enough to try using a boogie board in the surf. Since he was only 6 years old the previous time we’d been at the beach, he was a big kid now. In fact, he had even stopped calling me “Daddy” by this point. He was all kinds of excited that he had the chance to try out something cool.
Remember what it was like being a kid? When I was young I used to be the one that was rearing to go, but now I’m the slow parent. We stepped off the boardwalk and onto the sand, and he was ready to hit the water. My wife and I, on the other hand, still had to find a spot to set up blankets and umbrellas, then apply sunblock, then blow up whatever inflatable thing we had brought, have a drink of water, etc. Since my son was chomping at the bit to get started before I was ready to join him, I sort of explained what he needed to do in order to get going on the boogie board, and then he took off to give it a try.
He didn’t quite realize that you can’t really boogie board in the water that’s super close to the shoreline, where all the waves kept crashing. Being the enthusiastic guy that he is, he had fun giving it a try, but he wasn’t really able to get going for any significant distance.
After his old man finally got in the water, I gave it a try from some deeper water. I took a few test runs to make sure I was giving him accurate information. I found the technique that was working for me, then tried passing it along to him. In order for him to really get going, he had to come deeper, past the point where the waves were breaking.
He was fine with the idea of coming deeper, but it was tough for someone less than half my weight to do while holding a very buoyant board. As I stood in water that was probably waist deep for me, it was hard to watch him try to fight through the surf to get out deeper. His first attempt was a victim of poor timing; he ventured into the water at just the right time where the wave hit him while he was off balance. It knocked him down and pushed him back to shore. He got back up and gave it another try, but he tried again too soon. I would have said something to him, but I figured he’d see the next wave coming and hold off until it passed. Nope. The same thing happened and he had to pick himself up again. From where I stood, I could see he was having second thoughts about this. Holding the board made it so much more difficult to get out past the crashing waves when he ordinarily could’ve just dived through them or gone under them.
On the third try, with mounting failures fresh in his memory and fear building in his mind, I watched him enter the water much more tentatively. A wave approached him and it hit his board hard, reminding him of just how powerful the waves could be. I called to him, encouraging him from where I stood, but I could tell he wasn’t going to hang in there a whole lot longer. Moving slowly when he should’ve moved quickly, more waves bullied him. Struggling to keep a straight face, his eyes grew wide and he called out to me in fear, “Daddy, I don’t like this!”
It was a heart-wrenching moment. I moved quickly to him and helped get him steady. While still standing in the zone where the waves crashed, I told him I could help him get past the crazy part, but he was no longer willing to give it a try, he just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. It pained me to see him give up, and I tried several more times to convince him to give it another go, but he had made up his mind to stick to the shallows.
The part of that experience that sticks out the most to me was when my little guy’s enthusiasm melted away and he went back to calling me “Daddy.” He gave up on something that I know he would’ve enjoyed if he’d just done things a little differently. I could’ve forced him to do it, but I wanted him to want to do it, and it didn’t seem right to make him try something he no longer wanted to do (especially since it could have resulted in him fearing the ocean for years to come).
In the Bible, God goes by many names. One of them is “Abba.” The word “Abba” is something that Hebrew-speaking children call their fathers…it’s like saying “Daddy.”
The word Abba isn’t used often in the New Testament. It’s only used by two people: Jesus and Paul. Joachim Jeremias, a German theologian, remarked on Jesus’ use of the word. He writes “[Jesus] spoke to God as a child to its father: confidently and securely, and yet at the same time reverently and obediently.”
It makes sense that the Son of God talks to His Father that way. The part that’s crazy and amazing is this verse that Paul writes in Romans 8:15 and following. Paul’s writing about how we’re changed once we receive the Holy Spirit, and he says The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” 16 The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. 17 Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.
This means that we (Christians) are adopted into the family of God. Not only that, but we’re loved and accepted to such a high degree that we’re given the privilege of calling God the Father “Daddy!”
The next time you’re overwhelmed or just having a hard time in general, remember that not only can you call on your Heavenly Father…you can call on your Heavenly Daddy. If you tell Him “I don’t like this,” know that He sees you, He’s got you, and He can get you where you need to be.
God, thank you so much for understanding us so well and for giving us so many illustrations by which we can get a better sense of Your love for us. You’ve assured us we’ll have hard times in this life. When we do, remind us to call on You, seek comfort in You, and remember that You’ll give us what we need for each day. Amen.