During my senior year in high school, my family and I embarked on a journey that I both loved and hated: training for a half marathon. My mom, brother, sister and I started training together to run a half marathon just a few short months after we began to train. I had grown up playing soccer so I wasn’t a stranger to running. We had a very love/hate relationship. My dad, due to his several knee surgeries, wasn’t going to run the race with us, but he would bike along next to us as we trained to keep encouraging us. There were a few times I wanted to join him. I’ve had knee issues in the past, and wore inserts in my shoes and plenty of KT tape to keep knee pain and swelling to a minimum.

After those months of training were up, it was time for race day. The half marathon we ran is held every year in my home town, and its route passed by the front of my church. Every year we moved our church service to Saturday on the weekend of the race because otherwise no one could get close enough to the church to park on Sunday (race day). So that Sunday morning, some members of our church, some of our worship band, and family members of those running stood outside the church playing music and cheering on the runners. Among them was my dad. The church was around the 9th or 10th mile of the race, so many of us were exhausted and hitting a wall in our endurance and will to keep going. Then, rounding a large corner before the church, I spotted the familiar site of my church, a few friends, and my dad. I remember a huge smile coming on my face, and as soon as he was in sight I sped up to a full sprint. I broke from the pack, my dad stepped towards the race path, and I ran by him at full speed and gave him a resounding high-five as I kept running, hearing him yelling in the background to keep pushing and saying he was proud of me.

I don’t think I had ever run that fast and with so much joy in my life. My father, the man who raised me, encouraged me to live a life pleasing to God and full of integrity, the man who taught me to play sports and fix my car and who sparked my love of engineering, was standing there waiting for me with open arms and yelling how proud of me he was in front of hundreds of runners and onlookers.

Earthly fathers aren’t perfect. My dad would be the first to admit that. There may be many who read this who don’t have such fond memories of their father, or who may not know them at all. But there is one Father who stands above the rest. Isaiah 9:6, a prophecy of Jesus’ coming, proclaims that Jesus would be called “…Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Psalm 68:5 says “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.”

Thinking of all the love an earthly father could have for their child, imagine how much more so our Heavenly Father’s love is for us. Imagine the love of our Heavenly Father, who knit us together in our mother’s womb (Psalm 139), who sent his only Son for us, and who prepares room for us in heaven. Jesus says in John 14 that “In my Father’s house are many rooms… I am going there to prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

To those who are fathers, or mothers, or plan to be some day, imagine the love that God the Father must have had to send his only Son to be the perfect spotless lamb for us. I’m reminded of the old song “How Many Kings” by Downhere, which asks “how many kings stepped down from their thrones? How many lords have abandoned their homes? How many greats have become the least for me? And how many Gods have poured out their hearts to romance a world that is torn all apart? How many Fathers gave up their Sons for me?”

God, the creator and artist of all that goes on in our lives, shows his immense love for us through the sacrifice of his own son so that we could be reunited with him again. How many fathers do you know that would do that? That is courageous, unwavering, reckless love. The kind that leaves the ninety-nine sheep on the hill to chase the one that is lost (Matthew 18:12-14). The kind that welcomes the Prodigal Son home and runs to him with open arms even after he squandered his inheritance (Luke 15:11-31). The kind of love that only our Heavenly Father could give.

Our lives can fall on both sides of this analogy. We are children of a Heavenly Father that is good to us beyond what we deserve. As a child runs to their father with a smile and open arms to be embraced, so should we. We can honor our Heavenly Father by having a tender and teachable heart, by seeking his presence, by obeying his commands, and by responding to his guidance and correction.

On the other side of the analogy, we are to mimic the behavior of our Heavenly Father when we are in a position of fatherhood (or motherhood) here on earth. I’m still fair way off from being a father (although I look forward to it), but the concept applies to any form of leadership we can be involved in. Let us mimic our Heavenly Father by loving those we have influence over, by seeking after the lost, by helping the orphan and the widow (James 1:27), and by opening our arms to those who need our help.

Run to the Father. He’s waiting for us with open arms, wanting to help us through our race. All we have to do is run to him.

Related music:

“Good, Good Father” – Housefires (trust me, their original version is far superior to Chris Tomlin’s)

“How Many Kings” – Downhere

“Reckless Love” – Cory Asbury

“Jack and Jill, Pt. 2” – The Gray Havens (easily one of my favorite songs right now)