During a four month trip to India, it was a joy on a number of occasions to introduce my listeners there to the two glorious thoughts; that God was both big and near. If He were only big and powerful, but not near and caring, he could help us but would not; if He were only near and caring but not big and powerful, he might be able to sympathize with us but could not help us with our problems. It is the combination of His great power and His nearness that makes Him so wonderfully unique. The fact that the true God is both big and near means that He both can and will help us.

I recently began starting my morning times of prayer by imagining myself at the base of a raised platform on which God sat on His glorious throne. I would say something like, "Father, here I am in the midst of glorious splendor streaming from your mighty throne. In all the light, brightness, color, shimmer, fragrance and glory of this place and in the midst of the sound of multiplied voices singing, exclaiming your greatness in praise so that the ground trembles with thunderous volume, I too, lift my voice in awe at your greatness and majesty. I prostrate myself before you and, with my face on the ground, out of profound reverence and humility; I acknowledge your superiority and exceeding greatness." I was trying to make my praise more real, conscious, and meaningful than merely saying the familiar words of praise I have used for many years.

After praising God in this way for some moments, I proceeded to another step, typically saying something like, "And now with caution and awe I lift my head from the ground to look on your beauty and lovely face. I see you smile and nod to me and receive it as your invitation to ascend the steps which I now cautiously do. I approach your throne and note you are smiling and encouraging me to approach even closer. I climb up on your lap, lay my head against your shoulder, and, placing one arm over your shoulder and the other around your neck, whisper with deep feelings in your ear, ‘Daddy, I love you. I kiss you, Daddy. I hug you, Daddy. I love you, Daddy.’" After several moments of speaking intimately this way with God, I descended from His lap, throne, and platform to proceed with my normal routine of prayer and intercession for the day.

One morning I had a deep longing to linger on God’s lap. I told Him so and He invited me to stay. I proceeded through the remainder of my prayer time staying on His lap, changing my vocabulary to be appropriate for a child speaking to his daddy.

It is easier to pray rote prayers when God is in heaven and we are on earth, or when we are in a crowd or distant from the throne. But it is difficult, if not impossible, to pray in clichés, when you are on His lap talking with your Daddy. Clichés help us continue to say words when we are praying out loud, but they do not contribute to depth in the conversation. Clichés help make our prayers sound orthodox and acceptable to anyone else around, but they do not add to the meaning in private personal prayer. When talking with Daddy, you are forced to be real. You have to be thinking about what you are saying and saying something meaningful. When we speak in Daddy’s ear, every word uttered and every thought expressed takes on new depth and richness. The universe and the challenges we face back on earth are viewed differently from there on Daddy’s lap. Everything looks different from God’s lap. Problems appear very small, non-threatening, and easy to solve from up there.

When we use words like holy, exalted, lifted up, high, mighty, glorious, and awesome, we are honoring God in His splendor—and rightly so. But, in the use of those words, especially if we exclusively use those kinds of words, we also may be unconsciously placing God at a distance. Jesus and Paul’s use of Abba, however, helps us realize God is near. Abba means father in Aramaic and Jesus’ use of that word, praying in the everyday language of the family, makes God seem nearer, even though Jesus’ Jewish contemporaries would consider that disrespectful. Abba could be translated "Daddy." Jesus, faced with crucifixion on Calvary, used Abba in prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. Paul emphasizes sonship twice. In Romans he says, ". . . you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children" (Romans 8:15,16). According to Galatians, we are sons privileged to use that name. "Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father’" (Gal. 4:6).

When I began to call God "Daddy," it was a further step in becoming childlike, recognizing my weakness as opposed to His strength; His wisdom compared to my foolishness; His vast knowledge in contrast to my ignorance. God seemed to me to be big and strong all over again while I became more aware that I was weak, dependant, uninformed, and foolish. Yet, simultaneously, I was close to someone I loved, trusted, and with whom I felt comfortable being affectionate in a child-like way. I became deeply aware of a new aspect to a relationship already wonderful.

Jesus said, ". . . unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3,4). To call God "Daddy" requires a childlike attitude. On this same vein, to Jerusalem Jesus said, ". . . how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing" (Matthew 23:37). Each of these metaphors makes a contribution to our understanding of a close relationship in which the little one unhesitatingly runs to be close to and safe with the parent. If we take the "Daddy" from the one metaphor and the running to safety under the mother hen’s wing from the other, it is easy to picture a little boy running to the lap of Daddy God, kissing and hugging His neck, and being hugged by the strong arm (wing) of the kind and assuring, protective father.

As we pray, we have no question about the ability of the powerful Creator to work whatever miracles are necessary to answer our prayer. The question is seldom, "Can God do this?" it is usually rather, "Will God do this?" The contrast between talking to the Creator and talking with Daddy is that the Creator could; Daddy would. Daddy has always been approachable, available, and willing. It was not the Mother Hen, who wanted to maintain distance, but rather the little chicks He was talking about when Jesus said, "but you were not willing" (Matthew 23:37 emphasis mine). Jesus wanted intimacy. Daddy wants us on His lap, but we are the ones who have been hesitant to enter into this kind of intimacy. Daddy answers prayer better than His little children can pray. Never will we approach Him only to find Him stiff-arming us to hold us at a distance. Though He is the awesome and great Creator, yet He takes particular delight in being our Daddy. He is infinitely more than just our Daddy; but He is also our Daddy.

Copyright Ron Meyers

Ron Meyers has served as the Professor of Missions and Coordinator of the Master of Arts in Missions programs in the School of Theology and Missions at Oral Roberts University.   He is an engaging and knowledgeable speaker who is available for book signings.  For more information visit www.christianhabits.com