Once there was a little girl, and she loved her Heavenly Father. Everyday she would go and talk to Him in prayer, and tell him about her day. She would imagine sitting at His knee. . . holding His hand. . . and listening.
Then, when she was done talking and listening, she would lie down to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of His love. And the girl loved her Heavenly Father, and her Father loved her. They were happy.
Time passed. . . the girl started to grow up. She became a teenager, and like most her age, she stopped talking to her Heavenly Father.
One night, when all was quiet, she heard a whisper, "Come daughter, talk to me. Tell me about your day. Sit at my knee, hold my hand, and listen."
At first, she acted like she didn't hear. She turned up her radio, she called friends on the phone, but no matter what she did, she still heard the voice of the Father calling out to her.
Finally, when she could ignore him no longer, she answered, saying, "I don't have time to talk anymore. Besides, I am old enough that I no longer need you. I have my friends to talk to. I'm out having fun, dating, going to school, I even have a job. There is nothing to talk about." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Maybe when I get older." The Father just sighed, and whispered to her heart that He was there and that He loved her. When she slept, He placed a loving hand on her brow. More time passed, and like all parents, the Father waited patiently, still loving unconditionally. The girl had grown older, and was in trouble. She didn't know which way to turn, and people she thought would always be there to help, weren't. One night, as she lay weeping, she heard a whisper in her heart, calling to her, and memories of another time took her to her knees. She knelt by her bed and started talking to her Father, and she knew He was listening. They renewed the closeness that they once shared.
Once again, she answered when He called, "Come daughter, talk to me. Tell me about your day. Sit at my knee, hold my hand, and listen." With the passage of time, the girl's trouble lessened, and so did her need for the Father. She ignored the whispers more and more, until one day she told Him, "Everything is fine now, I no longer need you. Thanks for being there when I did, but I think I can take it from here." Ah, the arrogance of youth, and so the Father granted her wish, and left her alone. But yet, as she slept, He watched, and once again placed a loving hand on her brow.
The girl, now a woman, continued on with her life. She married, had children. She had both good times and bad times. During the good times she ignored the whispers that were sent to her heart, but when the bad times occurred, she listened, and heeded the whispers that said, "Come daughter, talk to me. Tell me about your day. Sit at my knee, hold my hand and listen."
But, as before, when the good times returned, she turned her back and left the Father with His arms outstretched. Then came the day that there were no more good times, and the whisperings weren't as strong as before. It was the woman, now old and alone, who went to the Father.
She was the one, at last to say, "Come Father, talk to me. Let me tell you about my day. Let me sit at your knee, hold your hand and I'll promise to listen."
Gradually, the Father came more and more to listen as His daughter prayed. She talked to Him about all the lonely years when she wasn't talking to Him. The Father listened, his hand resting on her head, and finally, through the whispers that she heard in her heart, she knew she was forgiven. Everyday the Father and His daughter grew closer and closer. As when she was young, she prayed every day, and every night when she would lie down to sleep, she was wrapped in the comfort of his love.
Then one night, she heard a new whisper, "Come daughter, take my hand. It is time to come home, where you can sit at my knee, hold my hand, and this time I will be the one to listen. The old woman, now young, placed her hand in the Father's. She sat at His knee, and, as she wept, He listened.
copyright 1996