Life Under His Wings

by Mary Beth on June 5, 2018

I yearn for times of quiet reflection in nature.

It’s likely due to my early childhood memories in Pure Michigan;

of restful, lazy summer days at the lake and always adventure in the country.


Yet the more I learn and understand our Creator God, the more I see His perfect revelation

in every promise, purpose, and plan He has gracious given us in life.


My brothers and I have fond memories racing motor bikes;

 a stopwatch determined the winner of the race through the thick woods near our home.

While early morning hours faded into dusk,

I also enjoyed years of hunting excursions with my father,

especially for partridge or quail from our wooden canoe in the river.

Yet, our early morning ice fishing endeavors holds only a brief joy and worth of remembering!

I’m thankful for all sorts of enjoyment in nature,

for the ability to appreciate and rest in the quiet beauty of the outdoors.

Treasured stories laced our annual summer camping trips

in the wild Canadian country, and cherished memories in our quaint cottage on the lake.

Of course we also dreaded hot hours of simply pulling weeds,

or eating organic veggies from our gigantic home garden.

If only we had the ability to pull sinful weeds out of our family scruples,

to protect our families from unwanted weeds which spread over the entire garden.

 Is this not a noble desire to avoid,

choking out the harvest and many fruits of our labors?

In the garden of Eden,

God graciously provided abounding goodness, order, and rhythm.

Yet Eden introduced

weeds deeply tainting our stories throughout humanity.

We all hold unique memories from our childhood, and unusual memories of significant struggles within our upbringing.
Truly, there's a time for everything under the sun; a time to hold and a time to let go.

Each year on Father’s Day, many souls struggle

with a healthy tension between discerning how to honor our earthly fathers,

and at the same time we perhaps wrestle with a righteous indignation.

Possibly angst towards merely an image of strength from our fathers;

a bold void of godliness, integrity, or holiness.

Father’s Day holiday can be a reminder that we

don’t simply grieve on Father’s Day, but everyday.

We struggle and grieve with a mixed bag of memories, absence, and deep loss

weaved into the fabric of our being.

All true, however, we don’t grieve without hope.


In a book that was meant to be prayed, most likely penned by a prophet named Jeremiah,

Lamentations invites us to worship and lament.

“But this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they
are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lam. 3:21-23

By God’s grace I’ve learned not only to forgive my father for his endless weeds of narcissism,

but through Scripture, prayer and godly counsel,

I’ve learned to be gracious to him with the gospel and love of Christ.


Although I etched this poem in my journal moons ago,

I was hesitant and lingered with it far too long, I confess.

In trusted sincerity and sanctification, my aim and motive is not one of resentment or bitterness

but a vulnerable and humble offer to others in suffering.

May you hear and come to know as I, God’s heart is tender and faithful to the fatherless.


We cannot bear the weight of sin which so easily entangles our lives,

or the weight of suffering loss from a dearly loved father.

How grateful I am to our amazing, eternal Heavenly Father.

For God graciously invites, provides and sustains our relationship with Him.

God is with us in our scruples to see, hear and move on behalf of His children;

He specifically yearns and moves towards the fatherless.

This belief will change our struggle and how we grieve.

We don’t have to grieve without hope. 

We can turn and rest our hope in the ever-lasting arms of our Heavenly Father;

our faithful Creator of the heavens and the earth, and the stability of our times.


Under His Wings

It is your absence

In the past we forgive.

Enormous losses

Surfaced and grieved.


Each resurrected day strength

Questions how you live.

Choosing love to withhold,

Once mercy has unfolded?


A lack of capacity; of skill?

Pride blinds and binds the free will.

Any heart alive leaps to give.

Is it not by conscience we live?


Life that you craved was

The treasures of Life He gave.

You fought the Old Cross;

Serious dilemma when you’re the boss.


Ironic passion saving ships at sea,

Responding with skills to hazardous pleas.

However, our silent confusion will not escape,

Why our claims lay drowning like red tape.


Performance cannot cover shame,

Neither satisfy loves jealous hunger.

To save the world and lose your own soul?

Life has hunted you as game.


I’ve known two fathers “saving:”

One born from natural earth, self-willed of wood and clay;

Another a suffering Servant from Eternity; The Truth, Life and Way.

Eternal willing to suffer; natural unwilling to obey.


Our free will of independence

Will counteract, “Who do you say I am?”

We’ll stand alone by this evidence,

Witnesses have since Abraham.


Your image of strength

Only shouts with fears.

Admit your human,

It’s loud and clear.


Contempt, a small matter

Compared to our soul, a great loss.

Such disdain paid for

Through the powerful cross.


Yet silence continues to be your path.

It’s blunt to observe the aftermath.

Such vast wounds of absence, yet-

Hovering over is our Abba Almighty, who’s more immense.


He is our Hope, everlasting Father and Refuge.

Tenderly holds our entire deluge.

By His mercy chosen to experience,

Life under His wings; His defense. ~mba


“See what kind of love the Father has given to us,
that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”
1 John 3:1


If you find yourself struggling with a sense of belonging

from an absent earthly Father,

remember our great Heavenly Father is not like man.

He will never leave or forsake us. Heb. 13:5

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