In the mid 90s, my dad drove a yellow motorcycle, and he had a really awesome ponytail to match it. I was in elementary school, and it was the coolest thing ever when dad would take me places on his motorcycle. He used to take me on Saturday dates — we would go eat cheese coneys at James Coney Island. (Did you just throw up in your mouth a little?)
I’ll never forget one time, we both got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of lunch and when we came back they’d bussed our table. Since we weren’t done eating yet, we ended up getting seconds for free. We did a victory dance around the restaurant… I guess there’s been a mark of favor on my life since the beginning. 😉
I have some really sweet memories of the times my dad would take me on motorcycle dates. There was something extra special about the invitation into an adventure with him. There was a message I received in those experiences that never had to be spoken. Dad was just showing me that he wanted to take me out and show me off, spend time with me and do things we loved to do together. He wanted everyone to know who I was, and he proved it when he bought a white helmet for me and my sisters that he wrote on the back with paint pens, in big fancy letters, “Daddy’s Girls.”
It was just like his, but just my size. An identity he placed on me that spoke value and purpose. I belonged to him, and he was taking me on an adventure.
And what my dad was doing in the natural mirrors a much greater fatherly love that we get to experience in the supernatural. So often we think of the throne room as unapproachable, but we’ve been given an invitation — an unlimited, all-access pass. And do you know what that invitation says?
Come and see what I have for you. I want to be with you. I want to show you what it is to live a life of adventure. I want to show you off. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.
Did you know that the only people allowed in the Oval office without permission are the children of the President of the United States? I get the feeling that our founding fathers knew the importance of children having access to their father. I get the feeling that they knew that kind of access to their Father.
And it’s not even so much that we’re allowed to enter the throne room without permission, but that we’ve already been granted unlimited permission.
So when I approach God, and I enter the throne room, I run without thinking about it and without an invitation I just jump right into the lap of Dad, because I know his heart is to be with me, to show me the secret things of an adventurous life with him, and to make it know that I am His. Just like my dad, and his yellow motorcycle, and my cheesy white helmet. And what does God do when I come running? He puts a crown on my head. And inscribed on it, in big fancy letters, “Daddy’s Girl.”
Just like His, but just my size.