Saturday, 24 November 2012

This is my son whom I love.

I am on page 24 of Greg Paul’s book, Close enough to hear God breath.  Mid-sentence, talking of God, Greg refers to “His dear Son, Jesus.”

“His dear Son.”  I couldn’t help but think of my dear son, Daniel.  One needs to be a father to understand the essence of having a ‘dear’ son.  I am sure every mother has mother-feelings.  Fatherhood, though, is a distinctly male emotion.
I had a flashback to when the Spirit of God overshadowed Mary.  It wasn’t sexual in any way; it was the act of fathering.  God had a son for the specific purpose of redeeming mankind but one cannot overlook the excitement of God becoming a father, having a son who will learn to call him Dad [Abba].
Daniel is our second child.  God had already given me ‘the desire of my heart’ in our daughter, Krista.  When Wendy became pregnant a second time, I said, “God, you choose this time.”   God chose a son for me; my son in whom I am well pleased, my son who will carry my genes and my family name to the next generation, my son in whom people [I hope] will see a shadow of his father.
I believe there is a natural pride a father has in his son; regardless of intellect, regardless of success or failure, regardless of anything.  There is an overwhelming pride I enjoy in the simple fact that Daniel is my son whom I love and in whom I am well pleased.
There is all kind of theology surrounding the second person of the Trinity, the mystery of Christ’s pre-existence before the world began, but I don’t think this in any way takes away from the joy and emotion God experienced in fathering his Son.

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