“Thank you, Father.”

Three words that make

my heart leap with joy 

AND

three words that make 

my heart tremble with fear. 

“Daddy, daddy.”

Two words I long to say

AND

two words I have rarely uttered

when darkness crept in. 

“Peace.”

One word I long to hear

AND 

one word which always 

seems to escape my grasp. 

One heart

With two conflicting desires:

Rest in Your arms

AND 

flee to protect my heart. 

At every turn

the battle rages. 

Do I trust 

or 

do I flee?

Do I let the earthly 

mold my view of 

the heavenly?

Or do I let the heavenly heal my

view of the earthly?

Childlike trust;

the key to the Kingdom

AND

the salt that makes

the wound feel 

raw and red.

Deep calls on deep

and the water roars

louder and louder;

the Living Water,

refreshing my soul. 

The roar of the

water sounds deeper 

than the roar of the pain. 

Every moment,

the struggle is new

AND 

every moment, 

the Grace is new. 

I am here

AND 

You are here. 

Father

AND daughter. 

You see the pain.

You see the wounds.

You see the fear.

AND

You stay. 

Yours is the Heart that

gives Itself to one in misery

AND 

can there be one more 

miserable than mine:

a daughter left alone 

and unprotected in the world?

The healing is the journey

and the Way is Love;

surrounding, protecting,

enveloping and reshaping

A heart that was broken. 

Joy, love, peace,

safety, trust, hope;

all being resurrected

and restored, 

step by step. 

Slowly, surely,

the story is changing;

the words are changing,

being reclaimed

by the One Who is 

the Word

and holds the Power to redeem. 

“Peace.”

One word I long to hear,

AND 

one word You whisper softly

to my broken heart. 

“Daddy, daddy.”

Two words I love to 

say in times of trouble

AND

two words that bring Your 

healing arms around my broken heart. 

“Thank you, Father.”

Three words that make my heart

leap for joy

AND

remind my broken heart 

of joy and healing, 

even here and now.  

About the poem:

This poem came out of a recent time of prayer. When I was two years old, my father left my mother, my sister (3 months old), and myself. We saw him every other weekend for a few years, and then he remarried and moved around the country from job to job for most of my childhood. This poem expresses my struggle to call God “Abba” and to trust in His loving, faithful presence. The journey from fear to love that I describe in the poem is something I often move through many times a day. It’s not a once and done deal. There are many layers to this healing journey and there is always more to learn about how deeply I am loved. Although I don’t always turn to poetry in my times of prayer journaling, I find that as the Lord leads me deeper into my healing journey, common words and cadences don’t properly express my deepest emotions and experiences. At the very deepest, no words can do justice to the stirrings of our hearts, but here I have tried to express the journey we are all on (together) of moving from fear to love. 

About the author:

Stephanie is a wife and mother of three boys. She and her family live in Pennsylvania. Her husband works for their local parish and she homeschools their boys. According to her eight year old, she enjoys reading, napping and watching The Chosen.

Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals

1. What resonates with your experience from this poem?

2. Like Stephanie, do you struggle, or have you struggled, “to call God “Abba” and to trust in His loving, faithful presence?”

3. If you wrote a poem about Abba, what would you include?