A Father Waits

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

There lived a father in a nearby land
With a tender heart and a gentle hand

A great big house filled up with stuff
Great food and toys, always enough

He had lots of kids and loved each one
They loved him too, thought he was fun 

But as they grew they moved away
Some near, some far, to their homes to stay

Sometimes they’d call or just stop by
To ask for help or talk or cry

But as time passed the calls decreased
He was concerned to say the least

“We’re kind of busy, so much to do.
Sorry, don’t have much time for you." 

So, from his house he’d stand and gaze
And there he’d wait for days and days

He wondered if they knew he cared
How many things he wished to share

For if they would ask, he’d freely give
Everything they’d need to fully live

Instead, they’d strive and fight and hurry
Caught in the hopeless net of worry

When he’d reach out to help, they’d moan
“It’s fine, Dad, I can make it on my own!”

Though pushed away, ignored, sidelined
He’d be there if they'd change their mind

Undeterred by silence, hurt and pain
His love for them, has never waned

No hint of judgement seen on his face
His heart’s still warm and full of grace

And He waits patiently, to this very day
For you and me, His kids… to pray.


Luke 11:1-13