#gospel – Page 6 – Tattoo It On Your Heart

In Step With My Father

Daddy held my hand as we entered the arched iron gates to the botanical gardens. Memories of his buying me Wrigley’s gum, elephant ear pastries, and Matchbox cars still bring a smile. He carried me when I was injured and scraped every speck of black pepper off my food. And bumper cars. I hated them, but I never told him because I liked to hear him laugh—and we were together.

I lived with Grandma in the countryside on the north coat of Jamaica, and Daddy lived on the south coast in the city, so I treasured his visits. He gave me a toypiano, like Schroeder’s in the “Peanuts” comic strip. I played it as loudly as I could because I believed it would make him visit us sooner. I loved our adventures. Sometimes he brought gifts.

One morning, Daddy showed up for a visit and handed me a big box. Grandma gave him a warning look as he hadn’t sought her pre-approval on this one—a tie-dye set. Perhaps he thought his gift was just fine for a six-year-old and Grandma’s nice tile floors.

“You gave her the tie dye set. You get her cleaned up!” Grandma said and pushed us outside. A bucket of soapy water, a scrub brush, and our stifled laughter under the mango tree. Pinned to the clothesline, my brightly colored creation flapped happily in the breeze. I loved that hat.

Rachael_M_Colby_Tattoo_It_On_Your_Heart_Fishing Boat_Jamaica

We made kites with bamboo and tissue paper. They always crashed, but that was okay. He drove too fast on the windy island mountain roads in his little ultramarine Triumph Spitfire. At the amusement park, Daddy emerged pale and shaky after riding the corkscrew roller coaster, but waited for me while I went again. He got upset when I fared better with a drop line than he did with his expensive fishing rod.

When I was a young teen, he took me to Disney World. His camera bag embarrassed me, as it looked like a purse, and I feared someone might recognize us. So I pretended I didn’t know him and walked several feet ahead, or behind.

Daddy wouldn’t let me accept the invitation to run off for the day with the boy I met at the Disney resort. I cried when Daddy scared him away. All the boys were afraid of my daddy. I didn’t yet appreciate his protectiveness.

He was a businessman and laughingly called me his rapacious little capitalist for running my underground fudge business at school. I made more than over $1,000 before they caught me. We were proud of the “F” I received for my class presentation on a controversial topic. I did a good job on it and stood up for my beliefs.

Daddy had his problems. At times, he missed the mark—and it was painful. But he loved his children and grandchildren. Sometimes God uses imperfect people to guide our lives if we let Him. We only have a finite amount of time to know, understand, and reconcile with each other, to extend forgiveness and grace like God does to us. I’m grateful for our time. Life is too short, and eternity too near to be at odds with those God calls us to love.

Then one day he was gone. Just. Like. That. Death gave no warning. I didn’t know that was our last I love you. I wasn’t ready. But God is the one who numbers our days; He said it was time.

Though he’s gone, his voice still echoes in my mind. “Daugh-tah, come here. Child of mine, I love you so much, yuh see,” my father would say in his accent.

My Daddy made mistakes; he wasn’t a perfect father. None of them are. Except for one. He calls me daughter too.

The Perfect Father

Relentless and reckless in His love for us,

He seeks and rescues us from our wanderings.

God is ever-present.

He is holy.

He is our help in all He calls us to,

A father to the fatherless.

He offers hope and healing to the hurting heart,

Strength to the weak,

Forgiveness from failure,

A new beginning at the end of our road.

In my destitution,

He clothed me in His righteousness.

Adopted and adored,

Never alone.

I come into His presence,

Call Him Abba, Father.

“But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12 NLT)

“You received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, ‘Abba, Father.’” (Romans 8:15 NLT)

*This piece, In Step with My Father, was originally posted on 6/10/2016. Revisions and additions made in 2017 and 6/2025.

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God is the only perfect father. He is a father to the fatherless. Jesus went to great lengths to meet us where we are. He left his throne in Heaven, donned human flesh, and died to save us from our sin, and reconcile us to Himself, to God. He loves us in spite of ourselves. But we have to accept Him.

A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation. Psalms 68:5

For you are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus. ‭‭Galatians‬ ‭3:26‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Father, daughter, son, is there a breach that needs mending? Will you start the journey to restoration? Just take one small step. May I suggest the first one be to pray; and the second, forgive? Maybe you won’t get where you’d like to on this side of eternity. Maybe you are only able to take those first two steps. That’s okay. Just start, and let God be God, the mender of hearts. Extend grace like God does for us, even though we don’t deserve it.

“But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:8‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

“If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.” Matthew‬ ‭6:14-15‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Then Peter came to him and asked, “Lord, how often should I forgive someone who sins against me? Seven times?” “No, not seven times,” Jesus replied, “but seventy times seven!” Matthew‬ ‭18:21-22‬ ‭NLT‬‬

SONG: 70×70 – Chris August (Official video)

Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:31-32‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

SONG: The Blessing – Jim Trick

Dads- your children, your wives, your country needs you. Will you step up to the plate?

“Here I am Father. Forgive me. Help me to forgive those who hurt me. Help me to step in Your footprints, and walk a little closer with You Jesus.”

SONG: Lead Me – Sanctus Real

Yeah, you are probably going to mess up sometimes, stumble and fall in the process. But God will pick you up. He’s like that.

SONG: Good, Good Father – Chris Tomlin

**LINK TO: The Father Effect, Movie – 3 Minute Trailer (*Warning: Contains some sensitive material)**

John Finch grew up the youngest of 3 boys in a suburb of Dallas where he lost his father to suicide at age 11. As a young man, John did anything he could to avoid confronting the wounds he suffered as a result of being fatherless. His craving for affirmation from a father who was not there to provide it, led him to… http://thefathereffect.com/about

RESOURCES

Encouraging Dads Project- Stories and resources to encourage dads Creating a community where we can share positive stories and ideas about becoming better and stronger fathers.

Encouraging Dads: 30 Short Stories That Inspire & Encourage Dads Kindle Edition

Focus on the Family is a global Christian ministry dedicated to helping families thrive. We provide help and resources for couples to build healthy marriages that reflect God's design, and for parents to raise their children according to morals and values grounded in biblical principles.

To speak with a family help specialist, request resources, make a donation over the phone, inquire about general information, or to report a problem, contact us at the number below.
1-800-A-FAMILY (232-6459)
Mon - Fri: 6am - 8pm (Mountain Time)

Family Life Ministries -Help for today. Hope for tomorrow

Link to my post entitled, Forgive

Tattoo It On Your Heart

Welcome to My Dysfunction

photo 4-002
*Disclaimer to all my PC friends, (politically correct): It’s okay. Really. My kids know I love them. I make a point of driving them crazy reminding them way too often.

Cast of Characters

Tom Sawyer—My 14 year old son

Lanky—Tom Sawyer’s friend

Frizz Head—My 17 year old daughter

Hippy Princess—Frizz Head’s friend

Einstein—21 year old friend of all

Myself—Chauffeur, Commander in Chief, Referee, Chef, and Scribe, aka “Moomm!”

photo 1 (1)-001 I shoved tents to sleep six, a ton of books and lots of unnecessary supplies into the limited space of our minivan and managed to slam the doors before anything fell out. I’d planned to leave on Tuesday, but Wednesday dawned before we finally escaped with the dashboard blinking like a Christmas tree, a missing hubcap and a screaming belt. String looped through holes replaced the duct-taped trunk handle. It swished like a small tail above the license plate. That’s one way to keep me humble—or make me cringe. But it was all good! We were on our way to SoulFest Christian music festival! Gotta keep my priorities straight.

The merciless three o’clock sun greeted us at our campsite. Good thing friends a few sites down came by to watch the show as we set up. Teen boys claim to know everything about things they’ve never done, but somehow, the same useless words spoken by “Momm!” are received as great tips from a male.

photo 1 (1) Mission accomplished, Lanky and Tom Sawyer ran up the face of the mountain, something I wouldn’t have attempted at half my age and weight—which could explain why I’ve lived to be my age and why I’m not half my weight. Lanky took pictures of their testosterone driven, death defying antics at the summit and texted them to his mother. I’m not sure she will entrust him to my care again.

“Did you brush your teeth?” I said. “Brush them! Or I will brush them for you!” There! That worked.

Jim Trick plays a mean guitar and with a voice like a lullaby, I could listen to him all day. “Jesus wants you to love yourself,” he said. “Only then you will be able to love others.”

The Bible says to deny myself and pick up my cross. But love myself?

Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord Your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. Tis is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'” (Matthew 22:37-39 NKJV)

As Christians, we ought to love what God loves and hate what God hates. When we hate what God loves, that’s a problem. If we hate ourselves, we are contradicting God. We can’t truly love ourselves (or others as he calls us to) until we grasp God’s love for us. Biblical love tends to the well-being of its object; it doesn’t indulge or enable sin. Jesus hates sin, but love drove Him to the cross to redeem us.

Sometimes I contradict God by holding onto regret of past failings which Jesus has forgiven and struggle to extend grace to others as scripture exhorts. God reminded me that people mistreat others because of what’s broken in them. When we focus on others’ need for healing, injustices are easier to bear and forgiveness to extend.

What we listen to, read, and watch, either influences us toward or away from Jesus. We love ourselves when we nourish our souls by time spent in the Bible and prayer. Jesus invites us to come as we are so He can transform us into His new creation.

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. (Proverbs 4:23 NKJV)

…he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:6 NIV)

“Do you need prayer?” she said. We stood in the shadow of the towering wooden cross that served as an altar, a call to Christ in the middle of it all. I left some things I couldn’t change in the hands of the One who can.

Matthew West made my Friday when he pulled an altar call because I believe hosting Christian events without providing opportunity for salvation is like telling a dying man you have the cure but not offering it to him.

I found Tom Sawyer brandishing bamboo skewers like sparklers as embers floated across the sky toward our neighbors’ tent—but I’m the crazy one. And what part of, “Don’t bring food in the tent unless you want to room with a bear,” don’t they get?

It’s quiet in the bathhouse at midnight, a good time to shower. A canopy of stars lit the path through the rows of tents. In the stillness the earnest whisper of a young man explaining the Gospel floated on the cool night air.

I stepped out of my tent Saturday morning as Hippy Princess, sitting cross-legged beside the fire, reached for the lighter fluid and matches. I seized them. My phone rang.

“It’s going great,” I said. “Jesus is alive! I’m really saved—I haven’t sworn at anyone!”

I lay on the mountainside as Zealand played.

I love you, Lord, to close my eyes and hear Your Name echo all around me like a balm, solace for my soul

The heat was a good advertisement for avoiding Hell. The angels in disguise worked at the iced tea stand. I found shelter in the Justice Center during Andrew Schwab’s talk on The War of Art. It’s worth the war to push through pain, procrastination, doubt and distraction, because when I fulfil my call to write, I honor God. When I draw closer to Jesus and reach out to touch lives through my writing, He heals me too.

Jesus promises us beauty for ashes; His strength is made perfect in our weakness. But first we have to let Him uncover our weaknesses and give Him the ashes.

We were told to take cover as a thunderstorm bore down, but our bags were unattended on the far end of the venue. Cue Chariots of Fire music, as I ran in the opposite direction of the crowd and rescued my daughter’s phone from its demise. Soaking wet, I joined the huddle under the tent by the cross. Someone started singing, and then we were all singing, “It is well, it is well with my soul.” It is well with my soul, even in the storm, when I keep the cross before me.

The mountainside came aglow as we used our candles to light our neighbor’s. The shofar sounded, Rabbi Oliveira sang the Aaronic Blessing, and shalom settled over us as POD jammed out from another stage. The night closed with the real Piano Man, Michael W Smith, leading worship.

Sunday morning en route to rouse the children, I distributed my website cards. “May I pray for you?” she said. — Good thing. I needed it for the task ahead. I hope she’s still praying.

We were one of the first to break camp. Tom Sawyer poked Frizz Head with the tent stakes until she finally punched him. Hard. Hippy Princess, seated, sunglasses on, gently pressed the air away with her palms whenever asked to help. “Shh,” she said. Einstein finally awoke and sprang into action straddling our minivan roof to secure bags, and myriad camping gear. We ignored the younger boys wrestling until we noticed Tom Sawyer using his phone as a weapon to encourage Lanky to release him from a headlock.

“I don’t care where the shadows or north and south are, Einstein! Just tell me whether to take a right or a left!” I said. We were one of the last to leave. It was a quiet ride as Lanky and Tom Sawyer weren’t on speaking terms, despite my mini sermon.

My husband and I pulled into the church parking lot simultaneously, him fresh from his afternoon nap, me returning from the three-hour trip that took five. The doors flung open, and kids and stuff spilled. I slowly hauled my body to face my husband.

“Hello,” I said. “I hate your children.”

“Oh! I was wondering if you hated me for giving you children! What did they do to you?”

“You have no idea,” I said, bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

“I think she’s overtired,” Frizz Head whispered to Hippie Princess as they skittered away.

Wish I’d known hysterical laughter garnered concern from the motley crew; I would have employed it days earlier.

“Vacations are hard work,” my husband said. “That’s why I try to avoid them.”

I gave him a hard look as I yanked at an article of clothing, trying to extricate it from the melded mass in the trunk.

“It’s like labor,” a friend said, laughing at my disheveled demeanor. “You’ll forget the hassles and go to SoulFest again next year!”

Yeah…because sometimes I need to see Jesus in someone else’s eyes who isn’t Soulfest_2016_ Ben_Laine_ Tattoo_it_on_Your_Heart part of my usual crowd. Because my son is happy hanging with the Word of Life crew, and my daughter could be anywhere, but she loves singing worship songs by the bonfire into the wee hours of the morning.

I want to put five nails in the cross, one for each of my children, and one for my husband and myself because the two shall become one, and sometimes that’s hard. Sometimes we need to nail our hopes, all that we are and all that we aren’t and should be to the cross again.

I’ll return because it’s good to saturate our thirsty, world worn souls with the Gospel served up a hundred different ways, and because I love to hear Jesus’ name echoing all around me.