The Father's Song:

The little girl looked at her dad, a frown perpetually etched on his face. He always seemed so stern, so very serious. She continued playing as little girls do, under the watchful eyes of her father.

********************************************************************************

Frustrated, he let loose a sigh. This job was killing him. Waking up every morning, going into an occupation where his talents were barely utilized, never recognized. He wanted to quit this demeaning exercise, leave behind the mundane, mindless routine that robbed him of his joy.

Worry lines creased his forehead as he looked at his daughter. Consumed by anxiousness for the future, he bit back his dissatisfaction with his job. Never mind the toil, the insults, the lack of recognition and the long hours. Her future is what mattered.

His silent sacrifice went unnoticed as the little girl continued playing without a care in the world.

*******************************************************************************

She ran into the house delirious with joy, clutching a trophy. The very first trophy that she had won in school. Proudly, she presented it to her parents. Mom exclaimed with joy, lavishing praises and the little girl lapped it up eager to hear more. She looked hopefully at her dad who gave a barely discernible nod, absorbed in his newspaper. Disappointed, she trudged into her room, the trophy hanging loosely by her side.

She learnt never to expect praise again.

********************************************************************************

Extra- curricular activities, trophies, achievements, what good were they in the real world? He thought to himself. Better not to encourage it, education is what mattered the most. A secure future.

You will not lack anything, he silently vowed. You will not suffer what I have gone through. I will sacrifice anything to make sure that you shall not want.

Unbidden a smile crossed his face as he remembered her trophy. His chest welled up in pride. After all who’s daughter was she?

The little girl didn't see the grown man reveling alone in his daughter’s achievements.

********************************************************************************

She never saw. She never heard. The silent, countless sacrifices he made for her every single day. Hanging his head, biting back insults in front of his arrogant boss, not indulging in the smallest pleasures to save up for her education, meticulously planning her future, anticipating her every need in advance. Wherever he went he was absorbed by thoughts of her, care, concern and worry. As he lay down to sleep at night, it was she who kept him awake; her happiness was all that mattered to him. His entire life gone in a flash, forfeited to forge her path so that she may walk freely without worries.

He boasted about her to his colleagues. Proud of her every little achievement, he told everyone he knew about her high grades, her talents, her triumphs, her, her, her. He was so proud of her.

His little princess. His beautiful little girl. The daughter he loved so much.

He had never learned how to express love.

********************************************************************************

She never knew. She did not know how to see the love in the small things he did for her. She yearned for a warm hug, a word of praise, some form of recognition. She longed to hear that she was loved.

She looked for it elsewhere, outside. She looked to everyone who cared like she belonged. She got hurt over and over again because she tried to find love in the wrong places.

The little girl who didn't know how to recognize her father’s love.

The father who never knew how to express love.

The two who loved each other so much but could never tell each other just how much they loved.

The deadly silence that killed.

And then God intervened. He broke the barriers that stopped them from communicating, He crushed the misconceptions, He rolled away the stones that blocked her vision, He opened her ears and shattered her deafness. He bridged together the love that wouldn't have met otherwise. He touched her and healed her with His love and finally the little girl was able to experience her father’s love.

Both Heavenly and earthly.

She saw it in the countless little things he did for her, she heard it from the lips of others, she recognized his silent acknowledgement of her talents and abilities, she understood the magnitude of his sacrifice.

The love healed her. The craving deep within, the longing to be recognized, the aching need for affection now satisfied. Her father’s love was like a song, it enveloped her, comforted her, and made her whole. She stopped looking for love outside. She had it all along. As if love would ever want to hide.

She finally felt it. The music was with her always.

The Father’s song

The Father’s love

You sung it over me and for eternity

It’s written on my heart

Heaven’s perfect melody

The Creator’s symphony

You are singing over me

The Father’s song

(The last two verses are from Matt Redman's Father's song)