At 54 with four kids of my own, I still need an Abba I can both love and fear as much as I ever have. But-make no mistake-I had a proper fear of my dad when I needed to. I suppose that’s why the name for God I relate to most is “Abba,” which translates to “Daddy.” Having grown up with a father who was loving but could be tough when he needed to be, it’s easy for me to think of my Heavenly Father the same way. When I became a Christian, my dad had been dead almost 20 years. “Remember you’re a Greenwood.” It was like having him there, looking over my shoulder-not waiting to reprimand me if I made the wrong choice, but expecting to be proud of me when I made the right one. More than once in high school or college, when I was tempted to do something reckless (and worry about the consequences later), I’d hear my daddy’s words. To remember that everything we did, every decision we made, every word we uttered was a reflection on him, our mother, and the rest of the family. Guard it!”Īny time one of my eleven brothers and sisters or I started out the door on a date, to school, to church, to a friend’s house, or to our part-time jobs, that one sentence told us our daddy expected us to remember who we were-and whose we were-and to act accordingly.
“As you go, so goes our family’s reputation. “Remember you’re a Greenwood.” His meaning was clear.
When I was a kid growing up, any time I left the house my father said the same thing.
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